— rn n t fl^^ f 1 f T ' • ' ' ' 






FORMATION 



CHRISTIAN CHARACTER 



FORMATION i/ 



CHRISTIAN CHARACTER, 

ADDRESSED TO THOSE WHO ABE SEEKING 
TO LEAD A RELIGIOUS LIFE: 



PEOGEESS OE THE CHEISTIAN LIEE; 

BEING 

A SEQUEL TO THE "FORMATION OF THE 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER." 



Bt HENEY wake, Jr. 
II 



HEW EDITION. 



BOSTON: 

AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION. 

1883. 



^^$ 



Si 



1 



F.ntprecl accorrtm^ to Act of Confess, in the year 1856, 

P.Y James Munroe and Companv, 

ID the Clerk's Office of the Uistnct Court of Massachusetts 



PREFACE. 



In presenting to the religious public this 
L Je book, the writer has only to say, that he 
undertook it because he thought that a work 
of this character was needed and would be 
welcome. During his active ministry, he had 
often fek the want of a book on personal re- 
ligion, different, in some respects, from any 
which had fallen in his way ; and when com 
pelled by ill health to relinquish his pastoral 
cares, he attempted to beguile some of the 
languid hours of a weary convalescence by 
efforts at composing such an one. The re- 
sult has come very far short of the idea wliich 
he had foniied in his mind. The book was 

written at distant and uncertain intervals, upon 
b 



^^ PREFACE. 



journeys and in public houses, and has been 
now revised for the press in tlie midst of 
otJier cares, wliich have allowed no time for 
giving it the completeness he desired. Yet, 
as it belongs to a class of writings of whose 
iinponance he has ih^ highest sense, and tlie 
nmliiplication of which, as well as the in- 
crease of a taste for Uieir perusal, he esteems 
in the highest measure desirable,— he ven- 
tures to hope Uiat diis slight effort will not be 
whclly lost ; and that it may at least do some- 
thing towards exciting others to a preparation 
of more efficient works, which shall nourish 
tlie spirit of devotion, and extend the power 
of pracuca] faith. 

Cambridoo, May 16. 183J. 



CONTENTS 



llVTaODUCTlU2« 1 

CHAPTER 1. 

The JVature of Religion, and what we are to 
seek. — Religion described — exemplified in the 
character of Christ — an arduous attainment — 
caution against low views .... 6 

CHAPTER n. 
Our Power to obtain that which we seek. — The 
capacity for religion in human nature — educa- 
tion — the natural and the spiritual life — man's 
ability to do the will of God — false humility — 
salvation by grace 18 

CHAPTER HI. 

The State of Mind in which the Inquirer should 
sustain himself. — Sense of unworthiness — anxi- 
ety of mind — rules to be observed respecting 
retirement, conversation, public meetings . 3-1 

CHAPTER IV. 
Tlie Means of Religious Improvement . . 47 
I. Reading. — Duty of seeking religious knowl- 
edge — its advantages — time to be given to it 
- — the Bible — to be read for instruction In 
truth — for self-application- selection of other 
books . .... 47 



VUl CONTENTS. 

II. Meditation. — Its object — habitual thoughtful- 
ness — seasons of meditation — enjoyment to be 
expected in them — caution —three purposes to 

be answered . ... 68 

III. Prayer. — Its necessity and value — impor- 
tance of set times — method to ba observed- 
subjects — posture — language — frequency and 
brevity — ejaculatory prayer — faith, fervor, per- 
severance — answers to prayer — topics — in the 
name of Christ — caution — spirit of devotion . 82 

IV. Preaching. — A divine institution — necessity 
of preparation for hearing — a critical disposition 
— reflection on what has been heard — on keep- 
ing a record of sermons — weakness of memory 

— a taste for preaching to be preserved . . 119 

V. The Lord's Supper. — Its object two-fold, pro- 
fession of faith, and means of improvement — 
who to partake, and when — an affecting and 
comprehensive rite — an opportunity for silent 
worship — conclusion .... 130 

CHAPTER V. 

The Religious Discipline of Life. — The means 
of religion not to be mistaken for the end — 
watchfulness, daily duties and trials — discipline 
of the thoughts, dispositions, passions, appetites 
— conversation — ordinary department — guard to 
be kept over the principles — and over the 
habits 149 



FORMATION 



CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 



INTRODUCTION. 

I AM anxious to bespeak the reader's right 
attention before he enters on the following 
pages. They have been written only for 
those who are sincerely desirous of knowing 
themselves, and are bent upon forming a re- 
igious character. They can be of little 
nterest or value to any other person, or if 
read with any other view than that of self- 
improvement. I venture therefore to entreat 
every one, into whose hands the book may 
fall, to peruse it, as it has been written, no* 
for entertainment, but for moral edification : 
to read it at those seasons when he is seri- 
ously disposed, and can reflect npon tho 
1 



Z INTROOUt'TTON. 

important topics presented to his view. 1 
am solicitous to aid him in the formation of 
his Ciiristian character, and about everv 
other result I am indilferent. 

I would even presume, further, to warn 
one class of readers, and that not a small 
one, against a danger which lurks even in 
their established respect for religion. That 
general regard for it, which grows out of the 
circumstances of education and the habits 
of society, may be n:''^taken for a religious 
state of mind ; yet it is perfectly consistent 
with religious indifference. A man may 
sincerely honor, advocate, and uphold the 
religion of Christ on account of its general 
influence, its beneficial public tendency, its 
humane and civilizing consequences, without 
at all subjecting his own temper and life to 
its laws, or being in any proper sense a sub- 
ject of the peculiar happiness it imparts. 
This is perhaps not an infrequent case. 
Men need to be made sensible that religion 
is a personal thing, a matter of personal 
application and experience. Unless it is so 
considered, it will scarcely be an object of 
earnest pursuit, or of fervent, hearty interest. 



o 

INTRODUCTION. 



nor can it cKcrt its true and thorough m- 
fluCr on the character. Indeed, .ts des. 
ab nfluence upon the state of soc.ety can 
be .ai ned only through this deep personal 
aevo^tL to it of indu,duals; because none 
"is genuine religion, and the genuine 

only can exhibit the genuine power. 

\„ow of notlung to be more earnesdy 

,,e sired, than that n.en should cease to look 

po ehgion as designed for otlK^rs, and 

luld come to regard it as prtmardyaffe^^^ 

i.,„ themselves; that they should first and 
l°st seriously study its relation to the.r own 

Tarts and be above all things anxrous abou 
IS own characters. His is but a part.d 
IT unsatisfactory faith, which is concern d 
Wholly with the state of soc.etym general and 
allow him to neglect the d.sc.phne of h.s 
1 affections and the cult^^f.^ - 

rr;;— t;rreof'chriiw.o.s 



INTRODUCTION. 



exemplifications of its purity, benevolence, 
and spirituality. These can be found only in 
men, who love it for its own sake, and because 
it is 'the wisdom of God and the power of God 
unto salvation,' and not simply because it is 
respectable in the eyes of the world, and 
favorable to the decency and order of the com- 
monwealth. It is for those who are seeiiing 
this end, and for such only, that I write. 



CHAPTER 1. 

TOE NATURE OF RELIGION, AND WHAT WE ARI 
TO SEEK. 

In order to the intelligent and successful 
pursuit of any object, it is necessary, first of 
all, to have a definite conception of what we 
desire to effect or obtain. This is especially 
important in the study of Religion, both 
because of the extent and variety of the sub- 
ject itself, and because of the very different 
apprehensions of men respecting it. Many 
are disheartened and fail, in consequence of 
setting out with wrong views and false ex- 
pectations. From which cause religion itself 
suffers ; being made answerable for failures, 
which are entirely owing to the unreasonable 
anticipations and ill-directed efforts of those 
who enlisted in her service, but did not per- 
severe in it. 

Let us begin, then, with considering what 
is the object at which we aim when we seek 
a religious character. 
1 • 



6 'fHE NATURE OF RELIGION. 

Religion, in a general sense, is founded 
on man's relation and accountableness to his 
Maker : and it consists in cherishing the 
sentiments and performing the duties which 
thence result, and which belong to the other 
relations to other beings which God has ap- 
pointed him to sustain. 

Concerning these relations, sentiments, and 
duties, we are instructed in the Scriptures, 
especially in the New Testament. Religion, 
with us, is the Christian religion. It is found 
in the teachings and example of Jesus Christ 
It consists in the worship, the sentiments, and 
the character, which he enjoined, and which 
he illustrated m his own- person. 

What you are to seek, therefore, is, under 
the guidance of Jesus Christ, to feel your 
relation to God, and to live under a sense of 
responsibility to him ; to cultivate assiduously 
those sentiments and affections which spring 
out of this responsible and filial relation, as 
well as those which arise out of your connex- 
ion with other men as his offspring; to per- 
form all the duties to Him and them, which 
appertain to this character and relation ; and 
to cherish that heavenward tendency of mind, 



THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 7 

which should spring from a consciousness of 
possessing an immortal nature. He who does 
all this is a religious man, or, in oth^ ; words, 
a Christian. 

You desire to be a Christian. To this are 
requisite three things : belief in the truths 
which the gospel reveals; possession of the 
state of mind which it enjoins ; and perform- 
ance of the duties which it requires: or, I 
may say, the subjection of the mind by faith, 
the subjection of the heart by love, the sub- 
jection of the will by obedience. This uni- 
versal submission of yourself to God is what 
you are to aim at. This is Religion. 

Observe how extensive a thing it is. It is a 
principle of the mind ; founded upon thought, 
reflection, inquiry, argument ; and leading to 
devotion and duty as most reasonable and 
suitable for intelligent beings. 

It is a sentiment or affection of the heart ; 
not the cold judgment of the intellect alone, in 
favor of what is right; but a warm, glowing 
feeling of preference and desire ; a feeling, 
which attaches itself in love to the Father of 
all and to all good beings ; which turns duty 
into inclination, and pursues virtue from im- 



8 niE NATURK OP RELIUIUN. 

pulse; which prefers and delights in thai 
which is well pleasing to God, and takes an 
affectioi.ate interest in the things to which the 
Saviour devoted himself. 

It is a rule of life ; it is the law of God ; 
causing the external conduct to correspond to 
the principle which is established, and the 
sentiment which breathes, within ; bringing 
every action into a conformity with the divine 
will, and making universal holiness the stan- 
dard of the character. 

The Scriptures represent religion under 
each of these different views. As a principle^ 
it is called Faith ; and in this view is Faith 
extolled as the essential thing for life and 
sakation. We are to * walk by faith.' We 
are ' saved by faith.' — As a sentiment^ it is 
style<l Love. Love to God and man is de- 
clared by the Saviour to be the substance of 
religion ; and the Apostles, especially John 
and Paul, every where represent this universal 
affection as the essence and the beauty of the 
Christian character. No one can read their 
language, and compare with it the life of 
Christ, without perceiving how essentially true 
religion is a sentiment of the heart. — As a 



THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 9 

(ato or rule, it is spoken of throughout tlie 
Scriptures. It is a commandment of God, 
requiring obedience. We are * to do his will.' 
Christ is the * author of salvation to those that 
obey him.' * If thou wilt enter into life, keep 
the commandments.' * He who keepeth my 
commandments, he it is that loveth me.* 

In the general complexion of Scripture, and 
in many particular passages, these several 
views are united : thus we are told, that * the 
fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suf. 
fering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, 
temperance ;' that the blessing of God belongs 
to the humble, penitent, meek, pure in heart, 
merciful, and peaceful ; that the Christian 
character consists in * whatsoever is true, 
honest, just, pure, lovely, and of good report :* 
in adding to ' faith, virtue, knowledge, tem- 
perance, patience, godliness, brotherly kind- 
ness, and charity ;' and * in denying ungodli- 
ness and wordly lusts, and living soberly, 
righteously, and godly.'* 

You see, then, what is the character of the 

• Gal. V. 22, 2.3.— Matthew, v. 3-9.~Philip. iv. 8. 
-2 Peter, i. 6, 7 —Titus, ii. 12. 

B 



10 THE NATUKE OF RELIGION. 

religion which you are seeking. You per- 
ceive that it implies the absolute supremacy 
of the soul and its interests over all the ob- 
jects and interests of the present state; and 
that its primary characteristic is a certain state 
of mind and affections. It is not the external 
conduct, not the observance of the moral law 
alone, which constitutes a religious man ; 
but the principles from which he acts, the 
motives by which he is governed, the state of 
his heart. A principle of spiritual life per- 
vades his intellectual nature, gives a complexion 
to his whole temper, and is the spring of that 
moral worth, which is in other men the result 
of education, circumstances, or interest. He 
is actuated by a prevailing sense of God, and 
the desire of a growing resemblance to his 
moral image. lie is possessed with the 
perpetual consciousness of his immortality ; 
and is not ashamed to deny himself any of the 
gratifications of the present hour, when there- 
by he may keep his mind more disengaged for 
the study of truth and the contemplation of his 
highest good. Living thus with his chief 
sources of happiness within him, he bears with 
equanimity the changes and trials of earth, 



THE WATURE OF RELIGION. 1) 

and tastes something of the peculiar felicity of 
heaven, which is * righteousness, and peace, 
and joy in a holy spirit;' and, like his master, 
who sojourned below, but whose affections 
were above, he does his Father's will as he 
passes through the world, but has treasured 
up his supreme good in his Father's future 
presence. 

But if you would discern the full excellence 
and loveliness of the religious life, do not 
rest satisfied with studying the law, or musing 
over the descriptions of it. Go to the perfect 
pattern, which has been set before the be- 
liever for his guidance and encouragement. 
Look unto Jesus, the author and finisher of 
your faitK. In him are exhibited all the vjj- 
tues which you are to practise, all the affec- 
tions and graces which you are to cultivate. 
In him is that rich assemblage of beautiful 
and attractive excellences, which has been 
the admiration of all reflecting men, the 
astonishment and eulogy of eloquent unbe- 
.ievers, and the guide, consolation, and trust, 
of faithful disciples. In the dignity and 
sweetness which characterize him, how 
fc'rongly do we feel that there is much more 



i2 THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 

than a display of external qualities, conform- 
ity to a prescribed rule, and graceful propriety 
of outward demeanor. Nothing is more 
striking than the evident connexion of every 
thing which he said and did with something 
internal. The sentiment and disposition 
which reign within, are constantly visible 
through his exterior deportment; and we re- 
gard his words and his deeds less as distinct 
outward things, than as expressions or repre- 
sentations of character. As, in looking on 
certain countenances, we have no thought of 
color, feature, or form, but simply of the 
moral or intellectual qualities which they 
suggest ; so, in contemplating the life of 
Jesus, we find ourselves perpetually looking 
beyond his mere actions, and fixing our 
thoughts on the qualities which they indicate. 
His life is but the expressive countenance of 
his soul. We feel, that, though in the midst 
of present things, he is led by principles, 
wrapt in thoughts, pervaded by sentiments, 
which are above earth, unearthly; that he is 
walking in communion with another sphere ; 
and that the objects around him are matters 
of interest to him, no further than as thev 



THE NATURE OF llELIGION. ll^ 

afford materials for the exercise of his benevo- 
lence, and opportunities for doing his Fa 
ther's will 

This is the personification of religion. 
This is the model which you are to imitate. 
And it is when you shall be imbued with 
this spirit, when you shall be filled with 
this sentiment, when your words, actions, 
and life, shall be only the spontaneous ex- 
pression of this state of mind, — it is then 
that you will have attained the religious 
character, and become spiritually the child 
of God. You will have built up the king- 
dom of God within you ; its purity, its de- 
votion, and its peace, will be shed abroad in 
your heart, and thence will display them- 
selves in the manners and conduct of your life. 

To attain and perfect this character is to 
be the object of your desire, and the busi- 
ness of your life. You must never lose sight 
of it. In all that you learn, think, feel, and 
do, you are to have reference to this end 
Whatever tends to promote this, you are to 
cherish and favor. Whatever hinders this, 
or in any degree operates injuriously upon 
it, you are to discountenance and shun. All 
2 



14 IHE NATURE OF RELIGION. 

that gives bias to your passions and appe* 
tiles, to your inclinations and thoughts, to 
your opinion of yourself, to your conduct 
toward others, your private or public employ- 
ment of your time, your business and gains, 
your recreation and pleasures, is to be judged 
of by this standard, and condemned or ap- 
proved accordingly. You are to feel that 
nothing is of such consequence to you as the 
Christian character ; that to form this is the 
very work for which you were sent into the 
world ; that if this be not done, you do noth- 
ing, — you had better never have been born; 
for your life is wasted without effecting its 
object, and your soul enters eternity without 
having secured its salvation. The provisions 
of God's mercy are slighted, and, for you, the 
Saviour has lived and died in vain. 

It IS plain, then, that the work to which you 
address yourself is arduous as well as delight- 
ful. It is not to be done in a short time, nor 
by a few indolent or violent efforts ; not by an 
exercise of speculative reason, nor by an ex- 
citement of feeling, nor by assent to profes- 
sions, forms, and rites ; not by a love of hear- 
ing the word preached, nor by attention 



THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 15 

to the morals of ordinary life, nor by stead- 
fastness in the virtues which are easy and 
pleasant ; — but only by a surrender of the 
whole man and the entire life to the will of 
God, in faith, alTection, and action ; by a 
thorough imitation of Jesus in the devout 
and humble temper of his mind, in the spiritu- 
ality of his affections, and in the purity and 
loveliness of his conduct. Any thing less 
than this, any partial, external, superficial con- 
formity to a rule of decent living or ritual 
observance, must be wholly insufficient. For 
it cannot mould and rule the character, can- 
not answer the claims of the Creator upon 
his creatures, cannot prepare for the happi 
ness which Jesus has revealed ; a happiness 
so described, and so constituted, that none can 
be fitted for it, or be capable of enjoying it, but 
those who are earnestly and entirely conformed 
to the divine will. Who can relish the spirit- 
ual pleasures of eternity, that has not become 
spiritually minded ? Who could enjoy admis- 
sion to the society of Jesus and the spirits of 
the just made perfect, that is not like them "* 
Why should one hope for heaven, and how 
expect to be happy there, if he have not 



16 THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 

formed a taste for its habits of purity, worship, 
and love? 

Be on your guard, therefore, from the 
first, against setting your mark too low. Do 
not allow yourself to be persuaded that any 
thing less is Religion, or will answer for you, 
than its complete and highest measure. Re- 
member that these things must be * in you and 
abound.' The higher you aim, the higher 
you will reach; but if content with a low 
aim, you will forever fall short. The scriptural 
word is Perfection. Strive after that. Never 
be satisfied whne short of it, and then you 
will be always improving. But if you set 
yourself some definite measure of goodness, 
if you prescribe to yourself some limit in 
devotion and love, you wiil by and by fancy 
you have reached it, and thus will remain 
stationary in a condition far below what 
vou might have attained. Remember always, 
rhat you are capable of being more devout, 
'nore charitable, more humble, more devoted 
ind earnest in doing good, better acquainted 
mih. religious truth ; and that, as it is impos- 
erible there should be any pemtf to the prog- 
cess of the human soul, so it is impossible 



THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 17 

that the endeavor of the soul should be too 
exalted. It is because men do not think of 
this, or do not practically apply it, that so 
many, even of those who intend to govern 
themselves by religious motives, remain so 
lamentably deficient in excellence. They 
adopt a low or a partial standard, and strive 
after it sluggishly, and thus come to a period 
in religion before they arrive at the close of 
life. Happy they who are so filled with long- 
ings after spiritual good, that they go on im- 
proving to the end of their days. 



IH OUR POWER TO OBTAIN 



CHAPTER II. 

OUR POWER TO OBTAIN THAT WHICH WB 
SEEK. 

The account which has been given of reli- 
gion in the preceding chapter, shows it to be 
consonant to man's nature, and suited to the 
faculties with which God has endowed him. 
His soul is formed for religion, and the gospel 
has been adapted to the constitution of his 
soul. His understanding takes cognizance 
of its truths, his conscience applies them, his 
affections are capable of becoming interested in 
them, and his will of being subject to them. 
There can be no moment of existence, after 
he has come to the exercise of his rational 
faculties, at which this is not the case. As 
soon as he can love and obey his parents, he 
can love and obey God ; and this is religion. 
The capacity of doing the one is the capacity 
of doing the other. 

It is true, the latter is not so universally 
done as the former ; but the cause is not, that 



THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 19 

religion is unsuited to the young, but that 
their attention is engrossed by visible objects 
and present pleasures. Occupied with these, 
it requires effort and pains-taking to direct 
the mind to invisible things ; to turn the 
attention from the objects which press them 
on every side, to the abstract, spiritual objects 
of faith. Hence it is easy to see, that the 
want of early religion is owing, primarily, 
to the circumstances in which childhood is 
placed, and, next, to remissness in education 
Worldly things are before the child's eye, 
and minister to its gratification every hour 
and every minute ; but religious things are 
presented to it only in a formal and dry way 
once a week. The things of the world are 
made to constitute its pleasures, those of 
religion are made its tasks. It is made to 
feel its dependence on a parent's love every 
hour ; but is seldom reminded of its depend- 
ence on God, and then perhaps only in some 
stated lesson, which it learns by compulsion, 
and not m the midst of the actual engage- 
ments and pleasures of its little life. It 
V)artakes of the caresses of its human parents, 
and cannot remember the time when it 



20 OUR POWER TO OBTAINT 

was not an object of their tenderness ; so 
that their image is interwoven wilh its very 
existence. But God it has never seen, and 
has seldom heard of him; his name and 
presence are banished from common conver- 
sation, and inferior and vi-sible agents receive 
tlie gratitude for gifts which come from him. 
So also the parent's authority is immediate 
and visibly exercised, and obedience grows 
into the rule and habit of life. But the 
authority of God is not displayed in any 
sensible act or declaration ; it is only heard 
of at set times and in set tasks ; and thus it 
fails of becoming mingled with the principles 
of conduct, or forming a rule and habit of 
subjection. — In a word, let it be considered 
how little and how infrequently the idea of 
God is brought home to the child's mind, 
even under the most favorable circumstances, 
and how little is done to make him the 
object of love and obedience, in comparison 
with what is done to unite its affections 
to its parents ; while, at the same time, the 
spirituality and invisibility of the Creator 
render it necessary that even more should 
be done : — and it will be seen that the wan^ 



THAT WHICU WE SEEK. 21 

of aa early and spontaneous growth of the 
religious character is not owing to the want 
of original capacity for religion, but is to be 
traced to the unpropitious circumstances in 
which childhood is passed, and the want of 
uniform, earnest, persevering instruction. 

I have made this statement for two rea 
sons. First, because I think it points out 
the immense importance of a religious edu- 
cation, and is an urgent call upon parents 
for greater diligence in this duty. No pa- 
rent will deliberately say, in excuse for his 
Deglect, that his children are incapable of 
apprehending and performing their duty to 
God. He will perceive that the same opera- 
tion of circumstances and of unceasing in- 
fluences, which has made them devoted to 
him, would make them devoted to God ; and 
religion is that state of mind toward God, 
which a good child exercises toward a parent. 
It is the same principle and the same affec- 
tions, fixing themselves on an infinitely higher 
object. Let parents be aware of this, and 
they will feel the call and the encouragement 
to a more systematic and affectionate attention 
to the religious instruction of their children. 



22 OUR POWER TO OBTAIN 

I have made this statement, moreover, be- 
cause it offers a guide to those who have 
passed through childhood without permanent 
religious impressions, and are now desirous 
of Tttaining them. It is principally for such 
that I write. They may be divided into 
many classes; some more and some less 
distant from the kingdom of God; some 
profligate, some indifferent ; some with much 
goodness of outward performance, but with 
no internal principle of faith and piety ; and 
some without even external conformity to 
right. But however differing in their past 
course of life, and in the peculiar habits 
and dispositions which characterize them, in 
one thing they now agree, — they are sensible 
of their errors and sins, and desire to apply 
themselves to that true and living way, which 
rihall lead them to the favor of God and 
everlasting life. They feel that there is a 
great work to be done, a great change to be 
effected, eiher internally or externally, or 
both, and they are desirous to learn in wha* 
manner it shall be accomplished. 

To such persons the statement which 1 
have made above may be useful. Let then 



THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 23 

look back to rt, and reflect upon it. God 
has given them powers for doing the work 
which he has assigned to them. That work 
is expressed in one word — the comprehen- 
sive name Religion. That work they should 
have begun and perseveringly pursued from 
their earliest days. But they have done 
otherwise. They have wandered from duty, 
and been unfaithful to God. They have 
gone far from him, like the unwise prodigal, 
and W'asted the portion he gave them in 
vicious or unprofitable pursuits. They have 
cultivated the animal life; they have lived 
* according to the flesh.' They need to cul- 
tivate the spiritual life ; to live * according 
to the spirit.' There is an animal life, and 
there is a spiritual life. Man is born into 
the first at the birth of his body ; he is born 
into the second when he subjects himself to 
the power of religion, and prefers his ration- 
il and immortal to his sensual nature. Dur- 
ing his earliest days, he is an animal only, 
pursuing, like other animals, the wants and 
desires of his body, and consulting his pres- 
ent gratification and immediate interest. But 
it is not designed that he shall continue thus. 



24 OUR POWER TO OBTAIN 

He in made for soTiiethinor better and higher 
He has a nobler nature and nobler interests. 
He must learn to live for these ; and this 
learning to feel and value his spiritual nature, 
and to live for eternity; this change from 
the animal and earthly existence of infancy, 
to a rational, moral, spiritual existence, — this 
it is to be born into the spiritual life. This is 
a renovation of principle and purpose through 
which every one must pass. Every one must 
thus turn from his natural devotion to things 
earthly to a devotion to things heavenly. 
This change it is the object of the gospel to 
effect; and we seek no less than this, when 
we seek the influence of the gospel on our 
souls. 

Now, the persons of whom I am speaking 
have not yet acquired this new taste and prin- 
ciple. It has made with them no part of 
the process of education. It is yet to be 
acquired. They are desirous of acquiring 
it. Let them first be persuaded of its absolute 
necessity. Until this is felt, nothing can be 
effectually done. Without it, there will be no 
such strenuous effort for religious attainment 
as is necessary to success. Many person? 



THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 25 

have at times, some have frequently, a certain 
conviction upon their minds, that they are 
not passing their lives as they ought, and 
they make half a resolution to do differently. 
They are ill content with their condition ; they 
long to be free from the reproaches of con- 
science ; they wish to be assured that their 
souls are safe. But, although uneasy and dis- 
satisfied, they take no steps towards improving 
their condition, because they have no proper 
persuasion of its absolute necessity. They must 
be deeply convinced of this. They must strong- 
ly feel that a state of indifference is a state of 
danger ; that they are on the brink of ruin, 
so long as they are alienated from God, and 
governed by passion, appetite, and inclination, 
rather than a sense of duty. And such is 
the power of habit, that they in vain hope to 
be delivered from its bondage., and to become 
consistent followers of Christ, unless a strong 
feeling shall lead them to make a resolute, 
energetic effort. If they allow themselves to 
fancy that it will be time enough by and by ; 
that, after all, the case is not very desperate, 
but can be remedied at any time ; and that 
it would be a pity yet to abandon their pleas- 
3 



26 OUR POWER TO OBTAIN 

ant vices; — then there is no hope for them 
They are cherishing the most dangerous of all 
states of mind ; a state, which prevents all real 
desire for improvement, is continually weaken- 
ing their power of change, and absolutely 
destroys the prospect of amendment. They 
must begin the remedy by a persuasion of its 
necessity. They must feel it so strongly, that 
they cannot rest content without immediately 
subjecting themselves to the dominion of reli- 
gion, — as a starving man feels the necessity of 
immediately applying to the search for food. 
No man will give himself to the thoughts, 
studies, devotions, and charities, of a religious 
life, who does not find them essential to the 
satisfaction and peace of his mind, that is, 
who is satisfied without them. Cherish there- 
fore the conviction of this necessity. Cultivate 
by every possible means a deep persuasion 
of the truth, that the service and love of God 
are the only sufficient sources of happiness ; 
and that only pain and shame can await him 
who withholds his soul from the light and 
purity for which it was made. 

Feeling thus the importance of a religious 
life, let them next be persuaded that its attain- 



THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 27 

ment is entirely in their power. It is but to 
use the faculties which God has given them, 
in the work and with the aid which God 
has appointed. No one will venture to 
say that he is incapable of this. A religious 
life, as we have seen, grows out of the rela- 
tions in which man stands to God and his fel- 
low men ; and as he is made accountable for 
the performance of the duties of these rela- 
tions, it is impossible that he is not created 
capable of performing them. It were as rea- 
sonable to urge that a child cannot love and 
obey its father and mother, as that a man 
cannot love and obey God. 

Yet it so happens, that some profess to be 
deterred from a religious course, by the appre- 
hension that it is not in their power; it is 
something which it must be given tliem to 
do ; a work which must be wrought in them 
by a supernatural energy ; they must wait till 
their time has come. But every apology for 
irreligion, founded on reasons like this, is evi- 
dently deceptive. It proceeds upon wrong 
notions respecting the divine aid imparted to 
man. That this aid is needed and is given in 
the Christiin life, is a true and comforting 



255 OUR POWER TO OBTAIN 

doctrine. But that it is to supersede human 
exertion, that it is a reason for indolence 
and religious neglect, is a false and pernicious 
notion, — countenanced, I will venture to af- 
firm, by no one whose opinion or example is 
honored or followed in the Christian church 
On the contrary, all agree in declaring with 
the Apostle, that while * God works in us to 
will and to do,' we are to ' work out our own 
salvation ;' and to do it with * fear and trem- 
bling,' because, after all, these divine influences 
will be vain without our own diligence. 

In some persons, this notion takes the form 
of a real or fancied humility. They fear lest 
they be found seeking salvation through their 
own works, and relying on their own merits. 
But what a strange humility this, which leads 
to a disregard of the divine will, and disobedi- 
ence to the divine commands ; which virtually 
says, * I will continue in sin that grace may 
abound !' Let me ask, too. Who will trust to 
receive salvation without actual obedience? 
Where is it promised to those who will do 
nothing in the way of self-government and 
active virtue 1 Where is it offered to any, but 
those who seek it by * bringing forth fruits 



THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 29 

meet for repentance,' and by * patient continu- 
ance in well-doing V 

And let none fear lest this make void the 
grace of God. For how is it that grace leads 
to salvation ? Is it by arbitrarily fitting the 
soul for it, and ushering it into heaven with- 
out its own cooperation ? Or is it not rather 
by opening a free highway to the kingdom of 
life, through which all may walk and be saved 1 
This is what the Saviour has done ; he has 
made the path of life accessible and plain, has 
thrown open the gate of heaven, has taught 
men how to enter in and reach their bliss. 
Whoever pursues this path, and enters 
* through the gate into the city,' is saved by 
grace. For though he has used his own 
powers to travel on this highway, yet he did 
not establish that highway ; nor could he have 
traversed it without guidance and aid; nor 
could he have opened for himself the door of 
entrance. Heaven is still a free gift, inasmuch 
as it is granted by infinite benignity to those 
who did not, do not, and cannot deserve it. 
Yet there are certain conditions to be perform- 
ed. And to refuse the performance of those 
conditions, on the plea that you thus derogate 



30 OUR POWER TO OBTAIN 

from the mercy of God, and do something to 
purchase or merit happiness, is a madness 
which ought to be strenuously opposed, or it 
will leave you to perish in your sins. 

These two things, then, may be regarded as 
axioms of the religious life ; first, that a 
man's own labors are essential to his salvation ; 
second, that his utmost virtue does nothing 
toward purchasing or meriting salvation 
When he has done all his duty, he is still, as 
the Saviour declares, but an * unprofitable ser- 
vant.' He has been more than recompensed 
by the blessings of this present life. That 
the happiness of an eternal state may be 
attained, in addition to these, is a provision of 
pure grace ; and it is mere insanity to neglect 
the duties of religion through any fear lest 
you should seem to be seeking heaven on the 
ground of your own desert. Virtue would be 
your duty, though you were to perish forever 
at the grave ; and that God has opened to his 
children the prospect of a future inheritance 
mfinitely disproportioned to their merit, is only 
a further reason for making virtue your first 
and chief pursuit. 

It is true there is great infirmity in human 



THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 31 

nature, and you will find yourself perplexed 
and harassed by temptations from without 
and within. Passion, appetite, pleasure, and 
care, solicit and urge you, and render it not 
easy to keep yourself unspotted from tho 
world. But what then? Does this excuse 
the want of exertion? Is this a good reason 
for sitting idly with folded arms, and saying, 
It is all vain ; I am wretchedly weak ; I can- 
not undertake this work, till God gives me 
strength ? Believe me, there is no humility 
in this. Think of yourself and of your de- 
serts as humbly as you please ; but to think so 
meanly of the powers God has given you, as 
to deem them insufficient for the work he has 
assigned you, is less humility than ingratitude 
and want of faith. Nothing is truer than 
this, — that your work is proportioned to your 
powers, and your trials to your strength. ' No 
temptation hath taken you but such as is com- 
mon to man; but God is faithful, who will 
not suffer you to be tempted above that ye 
are able; but will, with the temptation, also 
make a way to escape, that ye may be able to 
bear it.' Here is the manifestation of peculiar 
grace ; when a sincere and humble spirit, in 



32 OUR POWER TO OliTAIN 

its earnest search for the true way, encounters 
obstacles, hardships, and opposition, at this 
moment it is, that aid from on high is inter- 
posed. Tiie promise to Paul is fulfilled, * My 
strength is made perfect in weakness.' ' The 
spirit helpeth our infirmities.' Let it be, 
then, that human nature is weak ; no work is 
appointed greater than its power, and it ' can 
do all things through Christ who .strength- 
eneth.' 

Be thoroughly persuaded, therefore, that the 
work before you is wholly within your power. 
Nothing has a more palsying effect on one's 
exertions in any enterprise, than the doubt 
whether he be equal to it. Something like 
confidence is necessary to enable him to pur- 
sue it vigorously and perseveringly. It is as 
necessary in action, as the Apostle represents 
it to be in prayer. * He that wavereth or 
doubteth is like a wave of the sea, driven by 
the wind and tossed.' But when he has con- 
fidence, as the Christian may have, that his 
strength is equal to his task, that he cannot fail 
if he resolutely go forward, and that all hinder- 
ances must disappear before a steady and ni- 
dustrious zeal, which leans upon God, and is 



THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 88 

Strong in the power of the Lord, — then he 
presses on with alacrity, encounters trials with- 
out alarm, and is ' steadfast, immovable, al- 
ways abounding in the work of the Lord ; 
knowing that his labor is not in vain in the 
Lord ;' for that nothing but his own fault can 
bar him out of heaven, or cause him to fail of 
eternal life. 

And all this is perfectly consistent with the 
deepest humility, and the profoundest sense of 
dependence on God. 

D 



34 THE STATE OF MIND 



CHAPTER III. 

THE STATE OF MIND IN WHICH THE INQUIRER 
SHOULD SUSTAIN HIMSELF. 

All this, I say, is perfectly consistent with 
the deepest humility and most unassuming de- 
pendence upon God. If it were not, it would 
be false and wrong ; for a humble and depen- 
dent disposition is a prime requisite in the 
Christian ; a grace to be especially cultivated 
at the beginning of the religious course. It is 
concerning this state of mind that we are now 
to speak. 

Deep religious impressions are always ac- 
companied by a sense of personal unworthi- 
ness, and not unfrequently commence with 
it. It is man's acquaintance with himself, 
which leads him most earnestly to seek the ac- 
quaintance of God, and to perceive the need 
of his favor. The sense of sin, the feeling 
that his life has not been right, that his heart 
is not pure, that his thoughts, dispositions, ap- 
petites, passions, have not been duly regulated, 



NECESSAUV mii IHE INQUIRER. 35 

ihat he has lived according to liis own will, and 
not that of God, that, if taken from his worldly 
possessions, he has no other object of desire 
and affection to wliich his heart could cling, 
if called to judgment for the use of his powers 
and privileges, he must be speechless and 
hopeless ; all this rises solemnly to his mind, 
and sinks him low under a sense of ill desert 
and shame. He sees that he might have been,, 
ought to have been, better; that he might 
have been, ought to have been, obedient to 
God, and a follower of all that is good. He 
cannot excuse himself to himself. Every effort 
to palliate his guilt, only shows him its aggrava- 
tion ; and he cries out, with the penitent prodi- 
gal, * Father, I have sinned against heaven, and 
in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be call- 
ed thy son.' He has offended against knowl- 
edge and opportunity, and in spite of instruction 
and warning. He looks back to the early and 
innocent days, when, if his Saviour had been 
on earth, he might have taken him to his arms, 
and said, ' Of such is the kingdom of God.' 
But, alas ! how has he been changed ! He has 
parted with that innocence, he has strayed 
from the kingdom of heaven, he has defiled 



3C THE SsTATE OF MIND 

and lost the image of his Maker. While he 
dwells on this thought of what he was, and 
what he might have become, and contrasts it 
with what he is, he is filled with remorse. He 
exaggerates to himself all his failings, paints, 
in hhicker colors than even the truth, all his 
inirjuities, counts himself the chief of sinners, 
and is almost ready to despair of mercy. 

When the mind is strongly agitated in this 
way, it is surprising how the characters of very 
different men become, as it were, equalized. 
Of many individuals, differing in the most 
various ways as regards the number and nature, 
the magnitude and circumstances of their of- 
fences, and most widely separated in the ac- 
tual scale of demerit, each, at such a season, 
regards himself as the most guilty of men. 
Sometimes the high-wrought expressions, in 
which the victim of remorse vents the excru- 
ciating anguish of his mind, are accounted af- 
fectation and hypocrisy. But there can be no 
good reason to doubt that they are entirely sin- 
cere. The man honestly describes himself as 
he seems to himself at the time. He zs, in his 
own eyes, the wretch he draws. And this is 
very easily explained. He sees at one view 



NECESSARY rOK THE INQUIRER. 37 

all his past sins, open and secret, his thought- 
iessness, ingratitude, negligence, and omis- 
sions, his depraved inclinations, evil desires, 
and cherished lusts, which no one else knows, 
and which no one else could compare, as he 
can, with his privileges and obligations. All 
these he sets by the side, not of the hidden and 
private life of others, hut of their decent public 
demeanor. He compares them, too, not with 
the standard of worldly, outward morality, but 
with the strict, searching, holy requisitions of 
the law of God. And in such a comparison, 
at such a moment, he cannot but regard him- 
self as most unworthy and depraved. 

And we need not be too anxious at once to 
correct this feeling. The abasement is well ; 
for no one can feel guilt too strongly, or alv 
hor sin too deeply. The time will come, 
when he will learn to follow the direction of 
the Apostle, and 'think of himself soberly, 
as he ought tc think.' But at this first fair 
inspection of the deformities of his character, 
it is not to be expected that he should make 
his estimate with perfect sobriety. Only let 
every thing be done to guide, and soothe, and 
encourage him, and nothing to exasperate 
4 



38 THE STATE OF MINU 

his self-condemnation, or drive him to insanity 
or despair. 

But such a state of mind as I have describ- 
ed, though not uncommon, and by many 
cherished as the most desirable and suitable 
at the commencement of the religious life 
is by no means universal at that period, and 
cannot be regarded as essential. The expe- 
rience of different individuals in this respect 
greatly varies, and is much affected by temper 
and disposition, as well as by other circum- 
stances. Many excellent Christians have 
never been subjected to those violent and 
torturing emotions, which have shaken ano 
convulsed others. Their course has been 
placid and serene, though solemn and humble. 
They have felt their sin, and have mourned 
beneath it, and in deep humiliation have 
sought its forgiveness ; but without any thing 
of terrified emotion or gloomy despondency. 
They have been gently won to truth by the 
mild invitations of parental love, without 
needing the fearful denunciations of punish- 
ment and wrath to awaken them. This 
difference among individuals is owing partly, 
as I said, to constitutional difference of tem- 



NECESSARY FOR THE INQUIRER. 39 

peraraent, which renders it impossible tliat 
the same representations should affect all 
alike ; and partly to the different modes in 
which religion is presented to different minds ; 
having first appeared to some in its harsher 
features, as to the Jews on Sinai, and to others 
in the milder form of a Saviour's compassion 
But however this may be, and however the 
humiliation of one may wear a different 
complexion from that of another, it is a state 
of mind sincere and heartfelt in all, to be 
studiously cherished, and to be made per- 
manent in the character. 

In the beginning of the Christian life, this 
feeling assumes the form of anxiety, as it 
afterward leads to watchfulness. This word 
may, perhaps as well as any, describe the 
state of those for whom I am writing. They 
are anxious about themselves, about their 
characters, their condition, their prospects. 
They are anxious to know what they shall 
do to be saved, and to gain satisfactory assu- 
rance that they shall be pardoned and accepted 
of God. This is a most reasonable solicitude. 
What can be more reasonable than such a 
solicitude for the greatest and most lasting 



40 THE STATE OF MIND 

good of man ? What more becoming a 
rational creature, whose eternal welfare is 
dependent on liis own choice between good 
and evil, than this desire to know and pursue 
the right? this earnest thoughtfiilness respect- 
ing his condition? and this inquiry for the 
true end of his being? If a person, hitherto 
thoughtless, is in this state of mind, he is to 
be congratulated upon it. We are to be 
thankful to God in his behalf, that another 
immortal soul is awake to its responsibility, 
and seeking real happiness. We would urge 
him to cherish the feelings which possess him; 
not with melancholy despondency ; not with 
superstitious gloom ; not with unmanly and 
unmeaning debasement; but with thoughtful, 
self-distrusting concern, with deliberate study 
for the path of duty, and a resolute purpose 
not to swerve from it. 

Remember that much depends, I might 
say, every thing depends, on the use you 
make of this your present disposition. Be 
faithful to it, obey its promptings, let it form 
'n you the habit of devout reflection and 
religious action, and all must be well. The 
issue will be the Christian character, and the 



NECESSARY FOR THE INQl'IunU. 41 

Boul's salvation. But refuse to cherish this 
disposition, drive it from you, smother and 
silence it, and you will probably do yourself 
an everlasting injury. It is like putting 
out a fire which has just been lighted, and 
which may with difficulty be kindled again. 
It is trifling with the sensibility of conscience, 
it is bringing hardness upon your heart ; and 
there is less prospect that you will afterward 
arrive at an habitual and controlling regard 
for your religious interests. This it is to 
' quench the spirit.' 

Be sensible, therefore, that this is a critical 
moment in the history of your character, that 
it is in many respects the decisive point at 
which your destiny is to be determined. For 
now it is, in all probability, that the bias of 
your mind is to be determined for good or 
evil. Be sensible, then, how necessary it is 
that you keep alive, and cultivate by all possi- 
ble means, this tenderness of heart. Avoid 
every pursuit, engagement, and company, 
which you find to be inconsistent with it, or 
unfavorable to it, or tending to destroy it. 
Scenes at other times innocent, should now 
be shunned, if they operate to turn the current 

4 * F 



42 THE STATE OF MIND 

of your affections ; for you are engaging in a 
great work, the giving your heart a permanent 
bias 'toward God, and it ought not to be 
interrupted. While this is doing, you can 
well afford to withdraw from many scenes you 
might otherwise frequent, and indeed you can 
ill afford the risk of exposing yourself to their 
influence. 

It may be well to observe another caution. 
Say nothing of your thoughts and feelings 
to any, but one or two confidential friends. 
Many a religious character has been spoiled 
in the forming, by too much talk with too 
many persons. The best religious character 
is formed in retirement, by much silent 
reflection, and private reading and prayer. 
What the soul needs above all things, is to 
commune with itself and with God; then it 
is established, strengthened, settled. But if 
a man go out from his closet, and seek for 
instruction and guidance by talking with all 
who will talk with him, he fritters away his 
feelings ; his frame becomes less deeply and 
essentially spiritual ; words take the place 
of sentiment; and he is very likely to be* 
come a talkative, fluent, superficial religioiv 



NECESSARY FOR THE INQUIRER. 43 

ist, with much show of sound doctrine, and 
a goodly readiness of sound speech, but 
without substantial principle. Shun, there- 
fore, rather than seek, much communication 
with many persons. But some counsel and 
encouragement you may need. Apply, there- 
fore, to your minister. He is your legitimate 
and true counsellor, and he will be glad, in 
friendly and confidential intercourse, to lead 
you on. You may have also some pious 
friend, to whom, possibly, you may unbosom 
yourself more freely than you have courage to 
do to your minister; and he may, in some 
particulars, give you aid, which the situation 
of the pastor may put it out of his power to 
afford. In this manner, feel your way along 
quietly, silently, steadily. Let the growth 
within you be like that of the grain of wheat, 
which germinates in secret, and springs up 
without observation, and attracts little notice 
of men, till it shows 'the ear and the full 
corn in the ear.' Be anxious to establish 
yourself firmly in the power of godliness, 
before you exhibit its form. 

In connexion with this, it may be well to 
ddd a caution on a kindred point. Do not 



44 THE STATE OF MIND 

spend too much time in public meetinga 
You will, of course, be desirous to hear tlie 
preaching of the gospel. You feel as if you 
could not hear it too often or too much. You 
wonder that preaching should never before 
have seemed so interesting. You listen with 
unstopped ears; and prayers, hymns, and 
sermons, fall upon your spirit as if you had 
been gifted with a new sense. It is well that 
it is so. By all means cherish this ardent 
interest in public worship. But do not 
indulge it to excess. Let your moderation 
be seen in giving to this its proper place and 
importance in your time and regard. It is 
not the only religious enjoyment or means of 
improvement in your power; and it may 
possibly be mere sell-indulgence which carries 
one from meeting to meeting. Remember 
that no duty towards others is to be neglected 
in the search for personal improvement; this 
would be sin. And it is at times a higher 
duty to attend to your family, to be with your 
friends, to instruct your children, to consult 
the feelings and yield to the prejudices of a 
husband or wife, a parent, brother or sister, 
than it is to pursue your own single advantage, 



NECESSARY FOR THE INQUIRER. 45 

It may be your own gratification, by going out 
to social worsliip. And if it be your object 
to please God or discipline your own spirit, 
you will better effect that object by this 
exercise of self-denial, than by doing what 
would give uneasiness to others, and perliaps 
even alienate them from you, and render them 
hostile to religion itself The advice of the 
Apostle to wives is in force on this point, and 
is equally applicable to the other social 
relations : * Ye wives, be in subjection to your 
own husbands ; that if any obey not the word, 
they may, without the word, be won by the 
conversation of the wives ; while they behold 
your chaste conversation coupled with fear.' 

Be warned, therefore, against this error. 
And what are you to lose by the course which 
I recommend? Believe me, however much 
may be gained by the sympathy and excite- 
ment of a public assembly, quite as much is 
gained by the sacrifice of your inclinations 
to duty and to the feelings of others, and by 
the silent, unwitnessed exercises of retirement, 
which no one can forbid you. Look not at 
the present moment, but at the end. Your 
desire is to form a genuine, solid, thorough, 



46 THE STATE OF MIND, (fcc. 

permanent charactor of devotion. Well , try 
to form it wholly in the excitement, and be- 
neath the external innnence, of public meet- 
ings, and it will be such a character as can 
exist only in such scenes. Your piety will 
always need the presence and voice of men 
to keep it alive, and, unsustained by them 
will sink away and die. This, at least, is the 
danger to be apprehended ; and experience 
declares that it is no slight one. But form 
your character in private, build it up by the 
action of your own mind, under the direction 
of the Bible, and by intercourse with the 
Father of spirits,— and then it will always be 
independent of other men and of outward 
circumstances. It will be self-sustained on a 
foundation which man and earJh cannot shake, 
alike powerful in the solitude and in the crowd' 
and immovable in steadfastness, though all 
other men prove false, and faith have fled ail 
other bosoms. It is such a i>iety that belongs 
to the Christian ; it is such that you are to 
seek ; and you may well be apprehensive of 
failure, if you neglect this salutary caution. 



MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 47 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

The means to be used in order to render 
permanent your religious impressions, and 
promote tlie growth of your character, are now 
to be considered. They may be arranged un- 
der tlie following heads : — Reading, Medita- 
tion, Prayer, Hearing the word preached, and 
the Lord's Supper. 

I. Reading. 

I begin with the more private means ; and I 
speak of reading first, because it is in the peru- 
sal of the Scriptures that the beginning of 
religious knowledge is to be found. It is they 
which testify of Christ, and have the words of 
eternal life. It is they which make wise unto 
salvation. And it is through a devout ac- 
quaintance with them, that the mind and 
heart grow in the knowledge and love of God, 
and that the dispositions are formed which 
prepare for heaven. Every one may read the 



48 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

Bible, and, such is its plainness and simplicity 
in all matters pertaining to life and godliness, 
that if he be able to read nothing else, he may 
yet learn all that is essential to duty and ac- 
ceptance. Hence it has happened, that many, 
to whom circumstances have interdicted all 
general acquaintance with books, have gather- 
ed, from their solitary study of the Bible alone, 
a wisdom which has expanded and elevated 
their minds, and a peace which has raised 
them above the darkness and trials of an un- 
happy worldly lot. 

There are those whose condition in life is 
such, that they have very little time or means 
to devote to books, and it were vain to recom- 
mend to them that they should seek instruc- 
tion beyond the sacred pages, and the simplest 
elementary works of devotion. While, there- 
fore, it is the undoubted duty of every one to 
make the utmost possible progress in religious 
knowledge, no one is to be condemned for that 
omission of study and ignorance of books 
which are rendered unavoidable by circum- 
stances. We must make a distinction, it has 
been truly said, between that which is the 
duty of all, and may be done by all, that is, a 



READING. 4l> 

careful and devout perusal of the Scriptures, 
and that which is the duty, because within the 
ability, only of a more limited number, — the 
study of other sources of knowledge and vir- 
tue. These every one must pursue in propor- 
tion to his leisure and means. 

The class of those who have the leisure and 
means is large and numerous; it is to be 
wished that they were more alive to their obli- 
gation to improve themselves accordingly. I 
know not how it happens, that serious and 
devout persons are so content to be ignorant 
on those great topics which they truly feel to 
transcend all others in importance. It certain- 
ly deserves their consideration, whether this 
indifference be either creditable or right. 
Capacity and opportunity form the measure 
of duty ; and if they have received the power 
and means of cultivating their minds and add- 
ing to their treasures of truth and thought, 
they should regard it as an intimation that this 
is required of them. They should not esteem 
it enough to be sincere and conscientious ; 
they should desire to be well-informed ; well- 
informed respecting the interpretation of the 
more difficult and curious portions of holy writ. 
5 



50 



MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMI'ROVEAIENT. 



respecting the history and transmission of the 
records of their faith, the fortunes of tlie 
clmrcli in successive ages, the effects of their 
religion and of other religions on the world, 
the past and present state of religious opin-' 
ions, the past and present operations of 
Christian benevolence, the means of doing 
good, and the lives, labors, and speculations of 
the eminent professors of their faith. Now, all 
this is to be iuiown only through books ; and 
in order to atcain it, a judicious selection of 
books, and an appropriation of certain seasons 
for reading, are primarily recjuisite. The bare 
importance and interest of these subjects ought 
to be a suffici>-nt inducement to the adoptTon 
of this course. 

There are many other considerations which 
render it worthy of attention. The preaching 
of divine truth becomes far more profitable to 
those who have prepared themselves for it by 
the information thus acquired. Words are 
used in the pulpit, modes of speech occur, al- 
lusions are made, and facts and reasonings re- 
ferred to, which presuppose an acquaintance 
with certain subjects, and which are entirely 
lost to those who never read. The better a 



READING. 51 

hearer is furnished with preliminary knowl- 
edge, the greater pleasure will he derive trom 
the pulpit ; because tiic better will he under- 
stand and appreciate the sentiments expressed. 
At present, sucli is tiie uninformed character 
of a large portion of ordinary congregations, 
that a minister is compelled to pass by many 
modes of illustration, and many representa- 
tions of truth and duty, because they would 
be to a great majority unintelligible, and there- 
fore unprofitable. Instead of going on to per- 
fection in the proclamation of higher and 
wider views, he is compelled, as the Apostle 
complained in a similar case, to confine him- 
self * to the first principles of the oracles of 
God.' Some teachers, unwilling or unable 
thus to adapt themselves to the actual stature 
of their hearers' minds, pursue their own 
modes of thought and expression, without re- 
gard to their audience ; and, while they 
gratify a few reading and thinking men, leave 
the mass of the people uninstructed and unaf- 
fected. Herein is a sad error. But if the 
preacher must adapt himself to the hearers, the 
hearers ought to prepare themselves for the 
preaching. This is to be done by greater 



52 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

familiarity with religious books. They would 
then be ready for higher and more extensive 
themes, and for a wider scope of illustration, 
while the preacher would cease to feel him- 
self fettered. At present, warmed and filled, 
as his mind must often be, by large contempla- 
tion and exalted study, he sometimes uncon- 
sciously speaks that which is an unknown 
tongue to the unlettered man, though delight- 
ful and wholesome to him whose habits of 
reading have prepared him to receive it. 

Further still. It might do for mere men of 
the world, who professedly seek only worldly 
good, and hold of little worth the goods of the 
mind, — it might do for them to neglect books 
and thinking, and spend all their precious 
leisure in idle recreations. They are living 
for the body. But it is the distinction of the 
Christian, that he lives for the soul, for his in- 
tellectual and moral nature, for that part of 
him which is noblest now, and \ihich alone 
shall live for ever. He has passed out of 
the animal, into the spiritual, life. It is not for 
him to omit or neglect any suitable means of 
intellectual or moral cultivation. He is guilty 
of criminal inconsistency, he is a traitor fo his 



READING. 53 

Dwn mind, if he refuse to nourish it, syste- 
matically, with knowledge and truth. To 
keep it 'nactive and ignorant, is to keep it de- 
graded. Jesus lived and died for it, that it 
might attain the truth, and that the truth 
might make it free. But what is the freedom 
of the mind bound in the fetters of ignorance? 
Freedom and elevation can come to it only 
through knowledge, and one chief fountain of 
knowledge is books. These inform and excite 
it, and furnish food for thought. Thought is 
exercise ; it is to the mind what motion is to 
the body. Without it, there is neither health 
nor strength. And when God has graciously 
ordered that your lot should be cast amid the 
abuncJance of books, where you need only put 
forth your hand and be supplied ; when he 
thus makes easy to you that intellectual and 
moral attainment which is the soul's dignity 
and happiness ; I see not how you can answer 
it to your conscience, if you do not sacredly 
devote to this object a certain portion of youi 
leisure. 

In regard to the quantity of time to be thus 
employed, no uniform rule can be given. 
Men vary so much in occupation, opportunity, 



54 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

and leisure, that, while one may easily com- 
mand hours, another can with difficulty secure 
minutes. On this point every one must be 
left to the decision of his own conscience 
Inquire of that, impartially and seriously, and 
then determine how large a portion of time 
you can daily give to this great object. I be- 
lieve it may be laid down as certain, that most 
persons may afford to it a great deal more than 
they imagine. Some make no effort to do any 
thing, because they can effect so little that 
they account it not worth the effort. But they 
should remember, that duty does not consist in 
doing great things, but in doing what we can ; 
and that, if they would redeem from the hurry 
of business and the relaxation of sleep one 
quarter of an hour a day, it would be a more 
praiseworthy offering than the many hours 
which are given by others. Even five minutes 
a day would be worth something, would be in- 
valuable to one who was earnestly bent on 
using it. It would amount in a year to about 
thirty hours ; and who will say that it is not 
better to improve the mind for thirty hours 
than not at all? But I am persuaded that 
there is scarcely any one, however engrossed 



READING. 55 

in necessary carets, who may not find much 
more time than tliis — who may not find an 
hour a day. By greater care of the minutes 
wliicli lie wastes, by abridging a little from his 
meals, a little from his pleasures, and a little 
from his sleep, it would be easily accomplish- 
ed. If one be in earnest, as he should be, if 
he seek for wisdom as for gold, and for under- 
standing as for hid treasure, it will be no impos- 
sible thing to find the requisite time. Few men 
but could readily gain an hour a day, if they 
were to gain by it a dollar a day. Indeed, it is 
often seen, in actual life, that a person, to whom 
religion has beconie an object of deep concern, 
contrives to devote to his books more time 
than this, though before he would have 
thought it impossible. Nothing is wanting 
but the * willing mind.' If one feel the 
necessity, every thing else will give ,vay. 
Rather than remain ignorant and without prog- 
ress in the truth, he will cheerfully watch an 
hour later at night, and rise an hour earlier in 
the mornini;. The gain to the mind will 
more than baknce the inconvenience to the 
body. 

You may regard it, then, as some proof of 



5G MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMI'UOVEMENT. 

the sincerity and earnestness of your desire 
for improvement, if you find yourself able to 
appropriate a certain portion of time to prol- 
itahle reading. It is imi)ortaMt that you select 
for this purpose those hours which shall be 
least liable to interruption, and that you allow 
nothing to infringe upon them. Keep this as 
holy time. Be punctual and faithful to it, as 
the banker to his hours of business. 

There are seasons in every one's vocation, 
at which his business is less pressing than at 
others ; and there are also seasons of leisure, 
which he feels at. liberty to take for recreation' 
and amusement. As you will have lost all 
taste for frivolous amusement and unprofitable 
pleasures, you will be able to devote all such 
seasons to the improvement of your mind : 
and, instead of the theatre and the ball-room^ 
from which you would have returned fatigued 
in body and distracted in mind, and to some 
extent unfitted for duty, you will enjoy the 
converse of the great minds which have blessed 
the world, and, after filling your soul with their 
thoughts, will go back to your ordinary duty 
with a spirit refreshed and invigorated, and a 
body unwearied. During the season of long 



READING. 57 

evenings, especially, when so many are flurry- 
ing from diversion to diversion, as if this long 
'eisure were provided them only that they may 
contrive how ingeniously they can throw it 
away, — you will perceive that you have a most 
favorable opportunity for pursuing extensive re- 
searches, and making large acquisitions of 
knowledge. Evening after evening, in your 
own quiet retirement, you will sit down to this 
instructive application. By this diligence what 
progress may you make ! what volumes may 
you master ! to what extent may you penetrate 
the secrets of science, acquire a knowledge 
of history and of letters, and become enriched 
with tiiose great and various treasures of in- 
tellect, which are subservient to the growth of 
the mind and the glory of God ! You will 
thus be using time for the purpose for which 
it was given, — the ripening and perfecting of 
your immortal mind ; and, at all intervals of 
release from duty to others, will make it your 
happiness to be thus performing a great duty 
to yourself. 

In your selection of books, the Bible will, 
of course, hold the first place. This is to be 
read daily, and to be your favorite book. Re- 

F 



58 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

member, however, that it may be perused in 
such a manner, tliat it were better never to liave 
opened it. If studied inattentively, for form's 
sake, or only for the purpose of gathering 
arguments to support your opinions, it is read 
irreligiously, and therefore unprofitably. You 
must habitually regard it as uttering instruc- 
tions with a voice of authority, of which you 
are earnestly to seek the true meaning, and 
then submissively to obey them. You must 
never forget that your hopes of right instruo 
tion are suspended on the simplicity and fidel- 
ity with which you receive those holy words ; 
and as they were written expressly to make 
you wise unto salvation, no inferior purpose 
must distract your attention from this. 

You will therefore always have in view two 
objects — to understand the book, and to apply 
it to your own heart and character. 

The study of the Bible, for the purpose of 
understanding it, is an arduous labor. Dr. 
Johnson said of the New Testament, " It is 
the most difficult book in the world, for which 
the labor of a life is required." No book re- 
quires greater and more various aid. Its 
thorough interpretation is a science by itself 



READING. 59 

and you must ask of those, in whose judgment 
you confide, to point out the requisite helps for 
this interesting investigation ; to enable you to 
reach the pure text, and arrive at the meaning 
of every passage as it lay in the mind of the 
writer. Recollect that a passage standing by 
itself may bear a very good meaning, which yet 
was not the meaning designed ; and make it a 
sacred rule, not to receive or quote it in any 
other sense than that which belongs to it in its 
original place. The neglect of this rule has 
occasioned much misinterpretation and misa})- 
plication of scripture ; and some passages 
have come to be familiarly understood and 
cited in senses altogether foreign from their 
proper import. This is a perversion ; and it is 
an immense evil to have wrong ideas thus 
fastened upon the language of the sacred 
writers. 

And be not afraid of examining the text 
scrupulously, and employing the utmost ener- 
gy of your mind in discovering and determine 
ing its true sense. It is a duty to do this. 
You can decide between opposing and possi- 
ble interpretations only by applying your own 
mina to judge between them ; and the more 



60 MEANS OF UELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

keenly, impartially, and fearlessly you proceed^ 
the greater the probability that your decision 
will be correct. On this point some persons 
greatly err. They seize on the first meaning 
which presents itself to their minds, or haa 
been presented by another, and resolutely 
abide by it ; they refuse to investigate further, 
lest they should be guilty of irreverently trying 
the divine word by their own fallible reason. 
Indulge no such weakness as this. Never, in- 
deed, be guilty for a moment of the insane folly 
and sin of disputing the authority of revela- 
tion, or setting up your reason as a superior 
light and safer guide. But in deciding upon 
the meaning of scripture, you cannot use your 
intellectual powers too much or too acutely. 
Use them constantly, coolly, impartially, with 
the best aid you can obtain from human 
authors, and then you may rest satisfied that 
you have done your duty, — have done all 
which you could do toward learning the truth ; 
and if you have accompanied it with prayer 
for a blessing from the Source of truth and 
wisdom, you cannot have failed, in any 
essential point, to ascertain the will of 
God. 



RKADING 



But there is another object, — the apphca- 
tion of scripture to the forming of the heart 
and character. This is a higher object than 
tlie other, and may be effected in cases where 
very little of rigid scrutiny can be made into 
the dark places of the divine word. Blessed 
be God, it is not necessary, in order to salva- 
tion, that one should comprehend all the 
things hard to be understood, or be able to fol- 
low out the train of reasoning in every Epistle, 
and restore the text in every corruption. Do 
all this as much as you can. But when you 
read, as it were for your life ; when you take 
the Bible to your closet, to be the help and 
the solitary witness of your prayers; when 
you take it up as a lamp which you are to 
hold to your heart, for the puri)0se of search- 
ing into its true state, that you may purify 
and perfect it ; — then put from your mind all 
thoughts of differing interpretations and vari- 
ous readings, and the perplexities of criticism 
and translation. You have only to do with 
what is spiritual and practical. You are no 
more a scholar, seeking for intellectual 
guidance, but a sinful and accountable crea- 
ture, asking for help in duty, and deliverance 



62 



MEANS OF RLLKJIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 



from an evil world and an evil heart. Read, 
therefore, as if on your knees. Make your 
heart feel and respond to every sentiment. 
Apply to yourself with rigor every precept 
and warning ; and according to the character 
of the passage, let your mind glow with fervor, 
and be uplifted in holy adoration and devout 
gratitude, or be thrilled and humbled by the 
representations of infinite purity and justice, 
or melted and borne away by the tones of 
tender love and long-suffering grace. Suffer 
yourself to read nothing coldly, when you 
read for spiritual improvement. You might 
as lawfully pray coldly. Therefore let your 
reading be like your prayers,— done with all 
your heart. And be sensible that it is better 
to go over one short passage many times, tdl 
you fully grasp its sentiment, and grow warm 
with it, than to run over hastily and unleel- 
ingly many chapters. 

You are not to suppose, from what has been 
said, that you are altogether to separate these 
two modes of reading the Scriptures. On the 
contrary, it will greatly aid you in unravelling 
their true meaning, to carry to their interpre- 
tation a devout mind, wakeful to the impres- 



RKAPrNG. n3 

sion of their moral beauty, and in sympathy 
with their divine origin ; since nothing is truer 
than this, — that a study is rendered easy by 
the interest of the affections in it, anrl that 
difficulties disappear before the excitement of 
feelino-. And, on the other hand, when von 
are reading expressly for. improvement and de- 
votion, you will recur, without effort, and con- 
seijuently without interruption, to the results 
of your cooler inquiry, and spontaneously 
make use of the interpretations which your 
critical scrutiny has proved to be just. 

The cautions thus briefly sketched are im- 
portant for two reasons ; one, that there is a 
tendency in him who has become interested in 
the critical examination of the sacred writings, 
to continue to read them critically and with a 
principal regard to their elucidation, when he 
ought to be imbibing their spirit; and the other, 
that the perception of this tendency has been 
an apology to many for not engaging in such 
inquiries at all. They esteem it better to go on 
with their crude, unconnected, and undigested 
knowdedge, which in many cases is only igno- 
rance (for where they have not inquired, it is 
impossible they should know), than to check the 



64 



MEANS OF RELroiOrS IMPROVEMENT. 



fervor of their religious feelings, as they fancy 
must inevitably be done, by accurate study. 
But this is a mekncholy error. It reminds 
one of the old pretence that ignorance is the 
mother of devotion. How can it be rationally 
sui)posed, that a careful inquiry concerning the 
history, the text, and the signification of the 
Bible, should necessarily ali(3nate the mind 
from the true spirit of the Bible! I say 
necessarily, because the tendency alluded to 
undoubtedly exists; and, however it maybe 
accounted for, it evidently needs to be cau- 
tiously guarded against. This may be done. 
Do it, then, as you value the warmth and fervor 
of your soul. Do it, always and persever- 
mgly, by daily reading in that frame of spirit^ 
ual self-application which I have recommend- 
ed. Thus you will avoid the danger; and 
while you arrive at enlarged views of the na 
ture, contents, history and purposes of these 
sacred records, you will retain and increase 
the susceptibility of your heart to all their 
representations of duty and heaven. 

In regard to the choice of other books, it 
would take up too much room to enter into 'all 
the many considerations which might be 



UEADirsO. G5 

started. Let it be sufficient to say in general, 
that, if you would form a religious character, 
you are always to have in view the two objects 
already named, — religious knowledge and 
moral improvement. Your books, therefore, 
will belong to one or the other of these two 
departments; and it would be well to have 
one of each kind always lying by you in the 
course of being read. That is, be at all times 
engaged with two books ; one of a moral and 
devotional character, to keep your frame of 
mind right, and your feelings in harmony with 
eternal truth ; the other, of an instructive 
character, to enlarge your knowledge, and ex- 
tend your ideas concerning God, and man, 
and truth. Then you will never be at a loss 
for occupation. You will not fritter away 
precious hours in * wondering what you had 
better do.' 

To the better accomplishment of this pur- 
pose, it will be wen to obtain of your minister, 
or some competent friend, a list of selected 
books, in the order in which they should be 
read. I earnestly recommend this. Many 
persons read at random, without selection, 
whatever they may accidentally meet with. 
6» G 



66 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT 

They make no inquiry whether a book be 
good or bad, worth perusal or not ; but, be- 
cause it lies m their way, or has been read by 
some friend, they read it. How many misera- 
ble volumes of trash are thus devoured ! and 
that, too, by persons who would be alarmed at 
the suspicion that they are prodigally throwing 
away their time. But they do not pursue the 
same random course in other matters. They 
do not choose their food or clothing of the 
(irst thing which accidentally presents itself 
They take pains, they spend time, they in- 
quire, compare, judge and select only what 
they deliberately perceive to be best. And 
when we treat the body thus, shall we have 
no care for the mind ? Shall we leave it to be 
fed by any food which chance may bring 
it, and thus expose it to the risk of pernicious 
nourishment, to the hazard of being made 
feeble, sickly, and corrupt? I adjure you, fall 
not into this too common thoughtlessness. 
Do not take it for granted, that, because it is 
a printed book, therefore it must be worth 
reading. Get advice upon the subject, and 
reaa systeipiatically ; reflecting, that your ob- 
ject is not amusement, but improvement, — im- 



RCAOING. ($7 

Drovcjiient of your religious nature ; and llial 
you have no more riglit to run the hazard of 
poisoning it through a negligent selection of 
its nutriment, than to destroy your hody by 
similar means. The religious culture of your 
mind is a most responsible charge ; it is to he 
effected, in no small degree, by the exercise 
and guidance it shall receive from books; and 
how will you lift up your head, when the 
Judge shall inquire concerning your manner 
of preparing it for his kingdom, if you have 
provided for its iimnortal appetite nothing but 
unarranged and unselected trash, when stores 
of the choicest kind were profusely spread 
before you ? 

It does not fall within ray plan to pursue 
this subject further, or to treat the many ques- 
tions which may arise on the choice of books, 
and habits of reading, in general. It may be 
said in few words, that no work of truth and 
science, or of elegance and taste, which does 
not tend to corrupt the morals or create a dis- 
relish for serious thought, need be prohibited 
to a religious man. Withm the limits of thia 
restriction he may freely range. Let him only 
remember, that even the employment of read- 



68 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

ing may become mere idleness and wasteful- 
ness ; and that a man may decide respecting 
his actual principles and character by the 
character of the books to which he is most 
attaclied. He must therefore watch and 
guard his taste. Then he may find it in his 
power to cause every hour thus spent to 
minister to the growth of his best attain 
ments. 

II. Meditation. 

This is a great and essential means of im- 
provement. It is essential to self-examination 
and self-knowledge, without which the hope 
of progress and of virtue is vain. No one 
can know his own character, or be aware of 
the dispositions, feelings and motives by 
which he is actuated, except by means of deep 
and searching reflection. In the crowd of 
business and the hurry of the world, we are 
apt to rush on without weighing, as we should, 
the considerations which urge us; we are 
liable to neglect that close inspection of our- 
selves, and that careful reference of our con- 
duct to the unerring standard of right, which 
are requisite both to our knowing where we 



MEDITATION. 69 

are, and to our keeping in the right way. It 
is necessary that we sometimes pause and look 
around us, and consider our ways; that we 
take observation of the course we are running, 
and the various influences to which we are 
subjected, and be sure that we are not driven 
or drifted from the direction in which we 
ought to be proceeding. Without this there 
is no safety. 

Meditation, too, is necessary in order to the 
digesting of religious truth, making familiar 
what we have learned, and incorporating it 
with our own minds. We cannot even retain 
it in our memories, much less can we be fully 
sensible of its power and worth, except 
through the habit of reflecting upon it. We 
cannot have it ready at command, so as to de- 
fend it when assailed, or state it when in- 
quired after, or apply it in the emergencies of 
life, unless it be familiar to us by habitual 
meditation; so that even reading loses its 
value if unaccompanied by reflection. The 
obligations and motives of duty, the promises, 
hopes and prospects of the Christian, the 
great interests and permanent realities by 
which he is to be actuated, are not visibly and 



7U MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENr. 

tangibly present to him, like the scenes of hi* 
passing life ; and tliey must be made spiritual- 
ly present by deliberate meditation, if he 
would be guided and swayed by them. In- 
deed, without this, he must be without consid- 
eration or devotion, ignorant of the actual state 
of his character, and in constant danger of 
falling a sacrifice to the unfriendly influences 
of the world. 

In attempting, therefore, the acquisition 
of a religious character, it is important that 
you maintain an habitual thoughtfulness of 
mind. It has been said, and with perfect 
truth, that no man pursues any great interest 
of any kind.^ in which important consequences 
are at stake, without a profound and settled 
seriousness of mind ; and that a man of really 
frivolous disposition never accomplishes any 
thing valuable. How especially true must 
this be, in regard to the great interests of 
religion and eternity ! How can you hope to 
make progress in that perplexing and diflicult 
work, the establishment of a religious charac- 
ter, the attainment of the great Christian 
accomplishments, without a fixed and habitual 
thoughtfulness? — a thoughtfulness which never 



MEDITATION. 71 

forgets the Fastness and responsibility of 
the work assigned to man, nor loses the 
consciousness of a relation to more glorious 
beings than are found upon the earth. This 
must be your habit ; — something more than an 
occasional musing and reverie, at set times, 
when you shall force yourself to the task. It 
must be the qniform condition of your mind ; 
as much so as solicitude to the merchant, 
who has great treasures exposed to the 
uncertainties of the ocean and the foe ; — a 
solicitude, in your case not gloomy, or unsocial, 
or morose, but thoughtful; so that nothing 
shall be done inconsiderately, or without 
adverting to the bearing it may have on your 
character and final prospects. 

Then, besides this general state of mind, 
there must be, as I have said, allotted periods 
of express meditation. As the precept re- 
specting devotion is, ' Pray without ceasing,* 
and yet set times of prayer are necessary : so 
also, while we say, ' Be always thoughtful,' we 
must add, that particular seasons are necessary 
on purpose for meditation. You must set 
apart certain times for reflection, when you 
shall deliberately sit down and survey with 



72 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

keen scrutiny yourself, your condition, your 
past life, and the prospect before you ; inquire 
into tli3 state of your religious knowledge and 
personal attainments; and strengthen your 
sense of responsibility and purposes of duty, 
by dwelling on the attributes and government 
of God, the ways of his providence, the rev- 
elations of his word, the requisitions of his 
will, the glory of his kingdom, and all the 
affecting truths and promises which the gos- 
pel displays. These are to be subjects of 
distinct and profound consideration, till your 
mind becomes imbued with them, and until, 
filled and inspired by the spiritual contem- 
plation, you are in a manner 'changed into 
the same image as by the spirit of the Lord.' 
The proper season for tliis is the season of 
your daily devotion ; when, having shut out 
the wc>rld, and sought the nearer presence of 
God, your mind is prepared to work fervently. 
Then, contemplation, aided by prayer, ascends 
to heights which it could never reach alone : 
and sometimes, whether in the body or out of 
the body it can hardly tell, soars, as it were 
to the third heaven, and enjoys a revelation 
to which, at other hours, it is a stranger. 



MEDITATION. 73 

Tliis, however, is an excitement of mind 
which is rarely to be expected. Those sea- 
sons are ' few as angel's visits,' which lift the 
spirit to any thing like ecstasy. They are 
glimpses of heaven, which the soul, in its pres- 
ent tabernacle, can seldom catch, only fre- 
quently enough to afford a brief foretaste of 
that bliss to which it shall hereafter arrive. 
Its ordinary musings are less ethereal ; happy, 
undoubtedly, though oftentimes clouded by 
feelings of sadness and doubt, and by a sense 
of unworthiness and sin. But however mixed 
they may be, they are always salutary. If sad 
and disheartening, they lead to more vigilant 
self-examination, that we may discover their 
cause, and thus rekindle the watchlight that is 
so essential to right progress. If serene and 
'oyous, they are a present earnest of the peace 
which is assured to the righteous, and the joy 
heart which is one of the genuine fruits of 
ne spirit. Be not, therefore, troubled or cast 
down (indeed never be cast down, so long as 
you can say to your soul. Trust in God) ; be 
not, I say, disquieted or cast down, because of 
the inequalities of feeling with which you 
enter and leave your closet, and the changes 



74 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

from brightness to gloom, from clearness to 
obscurity, which often pass over your mind 
This, alas ! is the inheritance of our frail na 
ture. An equal vigor of thought, clearness 
of apprehension, force of imagination, fervor of 
devotion, always perceiving, feeling, adoring, 
with the same vividness and satisfaction, 
are to be our portion in the world of spirits. 
Here we see all things, * as in a glass, 
darkly' ; there we shall see * face to face.' 
Here the truths we rejoice in are too often 
like the images of absent friends, which we 
strive in vain to bring brightly before the eye 
of our minds ; they are shadowy, indistinct, 
and fleeting. But there they will be like our 
friends themselves, always present in their 
own full form and beauty, to dwell in the 
mind unfadingly, and constitute its bliss. 
Be satisfied, then, if you sometimes arrive, in 
your meditations, at that glow of elevated 
enjoyment which you desire. What you 
are rather to seek for, is, a calm and com- 
posed state of the affections, an ecjuanimity 
of spirit, a serenity of temper ; — like the 
quiet which an affectionate child experiences 
in the circle of its parents and brothers, 



MEDITATION. 75 

vvliere it is net excited to ecstasy by the 
thought of its (iitlicr's goodness, but lives 
beneath it in a state of equal and aflcction- 
ate trust. Like this should be the habitual 
experience of tlie Christian ; and if it be 
thus with you, let not occasional dullness or 
darkness, coming over your spirit in its reli- 
gious hours, dishearten or distress you. 

This I say, because many persons of tru- 
ly devout habits have unquestionably suf- 
fered much from this cause. In the natural 
fluctuations of the animal spirits, or the 
nervous system, or the bodily health, they 
sometimes find themselves cold at heart, 
and seemingly insensible to religious con- 
siderations. It seems to them that their 
hearts have waxed gross, that their eyes are 
closed, and their ears become dull of hear- 
ing. In vain do they read and think; they 
cannot arouse themselves to any thing like 
a ' realizing sense ' of these great objects ; 
but regard with a stupid unconcern what at 
Dther times has been the source of their 
thief enjoyment. But let the humble and 
timid believer be of good cheer. This is 
not always a sign of guilt, or of desertion 



76 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

by God. It may be traced to the original 
and unavoidable imperfection of human na- 
ture ; it is to be lamented as such, but not 
to be repented of as sin ; and one may not 
expect to be relieved from it, till the soul 
is freed from the body. Let him watch the 
course of his mind, and he will find the 
same inequality of feeling to exist upon 
other subjects. He does not at all times 
take an equal interest in his ordinary con- 
cerns, nor does he at all times feel the high- 
est warmth of affection toward his parent, 
friend, or child. Let him observe others, and 
he will discover the same variations in them. 
They will confess it to be so. The oldest 
and most established Christians will de- 
scribe themselves to have passed their whole 
pilgrimage in this state of fluctuation. Read 
the private journals of distinguished believ- 
ers, and you find in them frequent com- 
plaints of lukewarmness, indifference, and 
deadness of heart. They mourn over it, they 
bewail it, they strive against it, and yet it 
adheres to them as long as they live. It is 
not, therefore, your peculiar sin, but a com- 
mon infirmity. Regard it in this light, and 



MEDITATION. /7 

do not let it destroy your peace of mind, or 
lead you to overlook the rational evidence 
that your heart is right with God. 

But also, on the other hand, — for the 
Christian's path is hedged in with dangers 
on every side, and in trying to escape from 
one it is easy to rush into another, — take 
heed that you do not unwarrantably apply 
this consolation and make this excuse to 
yourself in cases in which you really deserve 
blame. Do not let this apology, which is 
designed only for the comfort of ihe hum- 
ble and watchful, be used by you as a cover 
for negligence and sinful self-confidence. 
Remember that your unsatisfactory state of 
religious sensibility may be possibly your 
fault ; and y^u are not to presume that it is 
otherwise, unid you have faithfully searched 
and tried. Have you not, for a time, been 
unreasonably devoted to amuse.nent, or en- 
grossed by unnecessary cares, so as to have 
neglected the watching of your heart ? Have 
you not for a season been thoughtless, light- 
minded, frivolous, and careless of that de- 
vout reference to God, by which you should 
always be actuated ? Have you not engaged 
7* 



78 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

in some questionable undertaking, or allow 
ed yourself in sloth or self-indulgence, oi 
cherished ill feelings toward others, or per- 
mitted your temper to be kept irritated by 
some unimportant vexations, or let your imagi- 
nation run loose among forbidden desires'? 
Ask yourself such questions ; and perhaps 
in the nature of your recent occupations 
you may detect the cause of your present 
listlessness. If so, change the general turn 
of your life. In the words of Cowper's 
hymn, it is only * A closer walk with God,' 
which can bring back * the blessedness you 
once enjoyed.' Now, your heart is desolate 
and unsatisfied ; you find in it * an aching 
void, which God alone can fill ;' and it is 
only by renewing your acquaintance with 
him, that you can renew your peace. 

But, after all, remember that you are to 
judge of the real worth of these seasons, not 
by your enjoyment of them as they pass, 
not by the luxury or rapture of your contem- 
plation, but by their effect upon your char- 
acter and principles, by the religious power 
you gain from them toward meeting the du- 
ties and sufferings, the joys and sorrows, 



MEDITATION. 79 

the temptations, trials and conflicts of ac- 
tual life. Meditation is a means of reli- 
gion; not to be rested in as a final good, 
nor allowed to satisfy us, except so far as it 
imparts to the character a permanent im- 
press of seriousness and duty, and strength- 
ens the principles of faith and self-govern- 
ment. If it add daily vigor to your resolu- 
tions, and secure order to your thoughts, se- 
renity to your temper, and uprightness to your 
life, then it has fulfilled us legitimate pur- 
pose. If, on the other hand, it end in the 
reverie of the hour, then, however fervent 
and exalted, it is, comparatively speaking, 
worthless to yourself and unacceptable to 
God. Its permanent influence on the char- 
acter is the true test of its value. 

It is easy to see, therefore, that there are 
three purposes which you have in view ; the 
cultivation of a religious spirit, the scrutiny 
of your life and character, the renewing of 
your good purposes. 

By the first of these, you are to insure the 
predominance of a spiritual frame of mind, 
a perpetual, paramount interest in divine 
truth, and its incorporation with the frame 



80 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

and constitution of your soul ; so that you 
shall be continually enlarging your apprehen- 
sions concerning God, his providence and 
his purposes, and shall at the same time make 
them part of the very substance of your intel- 
lectual constitution, the pervading and actu- 
ating motives of all your life. 

By this means religion becomes to the 
Christian what the spirit of his profession is to 
the soldier, — the one present thought, motive, 
and impulse, absorbing all others, and urging 
him to his one great object by its mastery over 
all other thoughts, principles, and affections. 
The other two purposes of meditation which 
I mentioned, may be described as the survey- 
ing and burnishing of the warrior's arms, in 
preparation for the summons to actual combat ; 
or as the act of the mariner in mid ocean, who 
every day lifts his instruments to the light of 
heaven, and consults his charts and his books, 
that he may learn where he is, and what has 
been his progress, and whether any change 
must be made in his course in order to his 
reaching the intended haven. The warrior who 
should allow his , arms to rust for want of a 
little daily care, and the mariner who should 



MEDITATION. 81 

be shipwrecked from neglect of taking sea- 
sonable observations, are emblems of the folly 
of the man who presses on through life, with- 
out ever pausing to scrutinize the principles 
on which he acts, and rectify the errors he has 
committed. 

This self-examination must be universal; 
embracing alike the conduct of your ex- 
ternal life and the habitual tenor of your mind. 
You must survey the train of your thoughts, 
the temper you have sustained, your deport- 
ment toward others, your conversation, your 
employment, the use of your time and of your 
wealth; you must consider by what sort of 
motives you are prevailingly guided, what is 
the probable effect of your example, and 
whether you are doing all the good which 
might be reasonably expected of you; you 
must compare yourself with the example of 
Jesus Christ, and measure your life by the 
laws of holy living prescribed in his gospel. 
And in order that these and other topics may 
all have their place in the survey, it may not 
be amiss to keep them by you on a written list 
Cotton Mather adopted and recommended the 
practice of assigning to such inquiries each its 

H 



82 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

particular day of the week ; so that every day 
might have its own topic of reflection, and 
every topic its due share of attention. Others 
may find this a useful suggestion. 

A renewal of your resolutions ir to follow 
this inquiry. Knowing where you are and what 
you need, you are to arrange your purposes ac- 
cordingly. It is a sad error of some to fancy 
that seeing and acknowledging their faults is all 
which is required of them. They sit down and 
bewail them, and in weeping and sorrow waste 
that energy of mind which should have been 
exerted in amendment. But it is surely far bet- 
ter, with manly readiness, to rise and act with- 
out a tear, than to shed torrents of bitter water, 
and still go on as before. Regret and remorse 
naturally express themselves in weeping ; but 
repentance shows itself in action. It may be- 
gin in sorrow, but it ends in reformation. And 
you have little reason to be satisfied with your 
reflections and your penitence, if they do not 
issue in prompt and resolute action. 

III. Prayer. 

As there is no duty more frequently en- 
joined in the New Testament by our Savioui 



PRAYER. 83 

and the Apostles, so there is none which is a 
more indispensable and efficacious means of 
religious improvement, than Prayer; for 
Avhich reasons it demands particular atten- 
tion. 

The practice of devotion is a sign of spir- 
itual life, and a means of preserving it. No 
one prays heartily without some deep reli- 
gious sentiment to actuate him. This sen- 
timent may be but occasionally felt; it may 
be transient in duration ; but the exerc' ^ of it 
in acts of devotion tends to render it habitual 
and permanent, and its frequent exercise 
causes the mind at length to exist always in a 
devout posture. He who truly prays, feels, 
during the act, a sense of God's presence, 
authority, and love; of his own obligations 
and unworthiness ; of his need of being better. 
He feels grateful, humble, resigned, anxious 
for improvement. He who prays often, often 
has these feelings, and by frequent repetition 
they become customary and constant. And 
thus prayer operates as an active, steady, pow- 
erful means of Christian progress. 

Indeed nothing effectual is to be done with- 
out it That it is a chief duty, even natural 



84 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

reason would persuade us. That it is a con- 
dition on which divine blessings are bestowed 
Christianity assures us. That it is a high grati^ 
fication and enjoyment, every one knows who 
has rightly engaged in it. And that it is of 
all means of moral restraint and spiritual ad- 
vancement the most effective, no one can 
. doubt, who understands how po\verfully it stir« 
and agitates the strongest and most active 
principles of man, and how complete is the 
donnnion which those principles have over his 
character and conduct. All this is clear and 
sufficient, without adding the assurance of the 
Saviour, that it is effectual to draw down spir- 
itual aid from heaven. Add this, and ihe 
subject is complete. It is, both naturally and 
by appointment, a chief duty of man ; from 
the nature of the soul and the intercourse it 
opens with God, it is the first enjoyment- 
and through its own intrinsic power and the 
promise of Jesus, it is the most effectual in- 
strument of moral and spiritual culture. 

Perhaps you have been accustomed to the 
performance of this duty from your childhood 
You were early taught to repeat your prayers, 
morning and evening. Pains were taken to' 



J 



PRAYER. 85 

make you understand the nature of the duty, 
and to give you riglit impressions in perform- 
ing it. Perhaps you have retained these im- 
pressions, and have continued to this time the 
{)ractice of sincere devotion. On the other 
hand, you may have lost those impressions, 
and become neglectful of the duty. Or per- 
liaps you are so unhappy as never to have re- 
ceived instruction on this head. You have 
passed through childhood without the practice, 
and without the sentiment which should m- 
spire it ; and now, when awakened to a sense 
of your responsibility, you find yourself a 
stranger to the mercy-seat. But, however the 
case may be, the sense of your religious wants 
now urges you to devotion ; and you are anx- 
ious to make that acquaintance with God, 
which alone can secure you peace. How to 
perform the duty, how to gain the satisfac- 
tion, how to reap the advantage, are points 
upon which you are anxious to obtain direc- 
tion. 

First of all, let me urge upon you the impor- 
tance of a plan and of customary seasons for 
your devotions. Have your settled appoint- 
ments of time and place, and kt nothing in- 
8 



«C MEANS or RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

terfere wuh them. Many would persuade vou 
tlmt this is too formal ; that you should be left 
more at liberty; that, as you are to pray 
always, it is quite needless to assign any 
special season for the duty. And one may 
conceive of a person having arrived at so high 
a measure of spiritual attainment, that his 
thoughts should be a perpetual worship, and 
retirement to his closet would bring his mh.d 
no nearer to God. But such is at best an 
■nfrequent case ; at any rate it is not yours - 
you are a beginner ; it never can be you'rs 
except you use the requisite means of arriving 
at It; and certainly among the surest means 
IS the custom of setting apart stated seasons 
for devotion. So that the very reason assign- 
ed for neglecting, becomes a strong reason for 
observing them. You must feed the soul as 
yoa do the body, furnishing it with suitable 
nourishment at suitable intervals. You must 
keep its armor bright and serviceable, as doe= 
the soldier in human warfare, who examines 
and restores it at a certain hour daily. If it 
were left to be done at any convenient season 
a thousand trifling engagements might cause 
the work to be deferred again and again, till 



PRAYER. 87 

irretrievable injury should accrue. You have 
too many other engagements and enticements 
daily and hourly occurring, to make it safe for 
you to leave this to accidental convenience or 
inclination. In order to secure its [)erform- 
ance, you must put it on the list of your daily 
indispensable engagements; and, as it is part 
of your routine at certain hours to breakfast 
and dine, and at certain hours to attend to the 
concerns of your household and profession, so 
also must it be, to retire at certain hours for 
religious worship. The wisdom and experi- 
ence of all the religious world insist on this ; 
and it would not be necessary to state it so ur- 
gently, if it did not seem to be a notion grow- 
ing into favor with some, that, as the spirit, 
and not the form, is the essential thing, it is 
better not to be burdened with methods and 
rules, but simply to pray always; — which, 
there is reasoti to fear, would in practice be 
found a precept to pray never. 

Assign to yourself therefore some conve- 
nient hour, when you shall be secure from 
interruption, and not hurried by the call of 
other business. If you are much engaged 
in active affairs, you may perhaps be unable 



88 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

10 secure this, unless you rise for the purpose 
in the morning, and sit up for it at night. 
This, then, you must do. Deprive yourself of 
a few moments' sleep, morning and evening. 
And I may ask here, whether the multitude 
of persons who excuse their inattention to 
religious exercises by their want of time, do 
not thereby expose themselves to a suspicion 
of insincerity? For if they were truly ir 
earnest, it would be a very little thing to retire 
to their chambers fifteen minutes earlier, 
and to rise from their beds fifteen minutes 
sooner. If they were aware of the magnitude 
of the gain, the sacrifice would seem insignifi- 
cant. Nay, they might even perform the duty 
upon their beds ; there would be no want of 
time then. And some, who, from the misfor- 
tune of poverty, have no place to which they 
can retire, being compelled to live at every 
moment in the company of others, should 
learn to feel that the bed is their closet ; that, 
when lying there, they can *pray to the 
Father who seeth in secret;' and that they 
need make no complaint of want of opportuni- 
ty, so long as they may follow the Psalmist, 



PRAYER. 89 

who said, ' I remember thee on my bed, 
and meditate on ihce in the night-watches.' 

Having, then, your stated times, if you 
would make them in the highest measure prof- 
itable, observe the following ru'es. First of 
all, when the hour has arrived, seek to excite in 
your mind a sense of the divine presence, and 
of the greatness of the act in which you are 
engaging. Summon up the whole energy of 
your mind. Put all your powers upon the 
stretch. Do not allow yourself to utter a 
word, to use an expression, thoughtlessly, nor 
without setting before yourself, in a distinct 
form, its full meaning. Remember the words 
of Ecclesiasticus : * When you glorify the 
Lord, exalt him as much as you can ; for even 
yet will he far exceed : and when you exalt 
him, put forth all your strength, and be not 
weary; for you can never go far enough.' 
Pour your whole soul, the utmost intensity of 
your feelings, into your words. One sentence 
uttered thus is better than the cold repetition 
of an entire liturgy For this reason, let your 
prayer be preceded by meditation. In this 
way make an earnest effort after a devout 
temper. While you thus muse, the fire of 
8* I 



90 MEANS OP UF.U«,OUS IMl-ltOVEMENT. 

your devotion will kindle, and then you may 
speak with your tongue;' then you may 
breathe out the adoring sentiments of praise 
and thanksgiving, the holy aspirations after 
excellence and grace, the humUe confessions 
of your contrite spirit, the glowing emotions 
of Chrtstian faith. As you proceed, you will 
probably find yourself increasing in warmth 
and energy; especially if you give way to the 
.rnpulse of your feelings, and do not check 
them by watching them too closely. To do 
this chills the current of devotion, and changes 
your prayer from the simple expression "of 
desire and affection, into an exercise of mental 
philosophy. Wherefore, having warmed your 
mind, give it free way, and let its religious 
ardor flow on. But if, as will often be the 
case, you find your thoughts wander and your 
feelings cool, then pause, and by silent 
thought bring back the mind to its duty; and 
thus intermix meditation with prayer, in such 
manner that you shall never fall imo the 
mechanical, unmeaning repetition of mere 
words. 

As your object is not to get through with a 
certain task, but to pray devoutly, you will 



find it well to vary your method according lo 
circumstances, and not always adhere to the 
same mode. I have sometimes suspected, 
that one cause of the little efficacy of public 
worship may be the invariable method of con- 
ducting it; whereby it is rendered formal, 
monotonous, and deficient in excitement. 
But however this may be, it is quite certain 
that a simi ar unvaried routine would be 
extremely injudicious in private devotion. In 
this respect, a very considerable latitude is 
desirable. As you are not to consult the 
wants or the convenience of others, but your 
own duty alone, you may have a single regard 
to what shall suit the immediate temper and 
exigencies of your own mind, without being 
bound by any prescribed rule as to subject 
language, or posture. — You will always hav 
by you the Bible to quicken and guide yoi 
But sometimes the first verse you read maj 
lead you to feelings, thoughts, and prayers, 
which shall so occupy your soul that you will 
read no more. And it is better to read but 
one verse, which thus influences your whole 
opiritual nature, than to read chapters in the 
unheedful way that is too often practised. At 



»2 MEANS OP RE..In,o.,S lA.PIiOVEMENT. 

another time, however, the reading of the 
Scr,,,tures may be your principal occupation 
a..') your less excited „,ind may J Z 

beyond a short ejaculation at the close of eaci 
lerse. Sometime., you may find it well to 
ass.st yourself by a printed or written fo m 
always, however, takn.g care to leave it, .hen 
2 seutnuent or feeling arises with.n you 
«h,ch ,s not there expressed. The main 

a vantage of a form in private is, to su™ 
.0 ghts, an stimulate the mind; as soo!f a 

.has done th,s, we should lay it down, and .0 
on of ourselves. Then, presently, if we find 
t necessary we n,ay again recur to the form 
and make the whole exercise, if we please 2 
alternate use of the form, and of 'our; „ 
anguage I„ all this we must be guided by 
the occasion. ^ 

Similar varieties may be allowed in regard 
to the subjects of our devotions. There are 
some great and leading topics of adoration 
and suppl,cat,on, which may at no time be 
fo-gotten or omitted. But it cannot be neces- 
sary ,n every prayer to go over the whole field 
of devotional sentiment. It is best that we 
confine ourselves principally to those which 



PRAVKIl. 93 

are most immcdiutely interesting at the time, 
and seek to render our present circumstances, 
fortunes, failings, and prospects, the nourish- 
ment of our devotion. Tiie temptations of our 
peculiar lot, our recent trials of temper, forti- 
tude, and faith, the dealings of Providence with 
our family and friends, the exposure, wants, 
and improvement of those most dear to us, — 
these, as they are at other moments of the 
greatest concern to us, should be the objects 
upon which we should, first of all, seek the 
blessing of God. This it is to connect every 
thing with religion ; in this way we shall avoid 
the error, into which some have fallen, of mak- 
ing religion a wholly independent existence, 
with no reference to the ordinary duties of ac- 
tive life, and no bearing on its common con- 
cerns, and of course exercising no influence 
upon them. Such persons have exhibited the 
strange spectacle of two contradictory charac- 
ters in one man, the one apparently devout, 
the other immoral. But the consistent Chris- 
tian will never separate his religion from his 
life, nor his life from his religion. He will 
seek to incorporate them most intimately with 
each other. And this he will effect, in no 



91 



MEANS OP RELIGIOUS IMl'UOVEMENf. 



small degree, by making his daily prayers, not 
the expression of general principles, and 
indefinite confession, the recitation of articles 
of faith, or declaration of vague desires aflei 
holiness; but the expression of those senti- 
ments which belong to his peculiar condition, 
and a perpetual reference to his personal 
character and circumstances. It is for these 
and concerning these that he will pray ; and 
therefore his prayers will vary as these do. 

So much, in a general way, respecting the 
subjects of private devotion. Next we may 
say a kw words respecting the posture. This 
need not be invariably the same. Many have 
laid stress upon it ; but it seems to me there 
is a certain freedom to be allowed in this 
particular to those who are invited * to come 
boldly to the throne of grace.' Provided we 
secure the right state of the heart, it can mat- 
ter little what the attitude of the body may be. 
There are times when the lowest prostration 
seems best to express and promote the senti- 
ment of lowly adoration and broken-hearted 
humiliation in which the worshipper suppli- 
cates his Father. But again, in a different 
tone of spirit, he is prompted to stand erect. 



PRAYER. 95 

and lift up \ns head and hands, as an attitude 
most corresponding to the elevated sen- 
timents by which he is filled. While 
sometimes he feels that in walking to and fro, 
or sitting with his head leaning upon his 
hands, he can best summon his mind to 
spiritual worship. Cecil says, that his oratory 
was a little walk in the corner of his chamber, 
where he paced backward and forward as he 
prayed. Others have been able to be devout 
only on their knees. What I would briefly 
urge is, that you be not scrupulous on this 
head. Allow yourself in any mode. Try va- 
rious modes. Adopt, from time to time, that 
which best cultivates and encourages the right 
tone of feeling. At the same time, you will 
probably find some truth in the remark, that 
the adoption of a suitable posture aids the 
adoption of a suitable frame of mind ; that the 
expression of reverence in the attitude conveys 
a feeling of reverence to the spirit ; for which 
reason it will be generally best to assume the 
posture most associated with the sentiments of 
devotion, and depart from it only when the 
change may be favorable to engagedness and 
fervor of mind. The soul may be as truly 



li(j MEANS OF RELIGIOUS iMI'IiO VEMENT. 

prostrated when you stand, or walk, or ride, oi 
work, or lie in your bed, as when you knee' 
before the altar. 

Neither be too scrupulous concerning the 
use of your lips. It is oftentimes as well, or 
better, to pray mentally, without uttering a 
sound. Yet at the same time there is danger, 
/f this become our practice, that it will end in 
mrning prayer into meditation, and that our 
hours of devotion will become hours of musing 
and reverie. This would be injurious; and 
therefore we should commonly use articulate 
language. Our thoughts are so much asso- 
ciated with words, and words with their 
sounds, that it is not easy to think connectedly 
and profitably without the use of speech. It 
is well, as I have before said, to muse for a 
time; but when, after musing, the fire is 
kindled within us, as the Psalmist expresses 
it, then we should ' speak with our tongues.' 
We shall find this an essential aid in render- 
ing our sentiments and train of thought 
distinct to ourselves; and in so impressing 
them on our memories, that we shall be able 
to employ them afterward for our guidance 
and comfort. Good sentiments, which merely 



97 



pass through the mind, but are not put into 
words, arc apt to leave no trace behind them ; 
and he who should habitually indulge himself 
in thinking his prayers, instead of expressing 
them, would find it extremely difficult to say 
what he had prayed for, or to turn to any 
account in common life the employment of 
his sacred hours. 

Meditation is, in its nature, an act very 
distinct from prayer, and must be very dis- 
tinct in its effects. Some effects may be 
common to the two ; but much of the peculiar 
and the happiest influence of devotion on the 
character must be lost to the man who 
allows musing to take the place of prayer. 
It is one thing to contemplate a blessing and 
desire it; quite another to ask for it. The 
latter may require a very different temper 
of mind from the former ; and it is plain that 
the promise of God is given to those who ask, 
not to those who desire ; to those who employ 
petition, not those who are content with con- 
templation. Therefore arrange your thoughts 
in words ; and generally give them a distinct 
utterance in sound; pausing occasionally for 
reflection, and being certain that you do not 
9 



98 MEANS OF RELKilOLS IMPROVEMENT. 

employ words only, but that the thoughts 
which they express are actually in your mind. 
In regard to the choice of words, be not 
too anxious. Take those which express your 
meaning, without regard to their elegance 
or eloqupuce. You will naturally fall into 
language borrowed from the Scriptures, and 
that is always good and appropriate. Only 
take heed that you do not use it mechanically, 
and without due consideration of its signifi- 
cance. But when you do not use the terms 
of scripture, take those which express what 
you mean, and consider nothing further. I 
would lay the more stress upon this, because 
some persons actually plead, as an excuse for 
the neglect of this duty, that they have no 
command of language, and cannot readily 
find correct and proper words. This would 
be a very good reason for not attempting to 
pray in public ; and it were to be wished that 
some, who are forward to exhibit themselves 
in this act, would consider it more seriously. 
It is an injury to religion, when he, who 
speaks to God in the public assembly, or the 
circle of social worship, does it in rude, 
hesitating, confused, inappropriate, or ungram* 



PRAYER. 9l» 

matical language. But in private, when you 
are simply to pour out your heart, and riave 
no witness but Heaven, allow yourself to put 
aside all solicitude on this head. Speak as 
you feel, and what you feel ; only taking care 
that your feelings are right, and that you know 
what they are. Alas ! you will often find it a 
task difficult enough to regulate your feelings, 
govern your thoughts, repress wandering de- 
sires, keep out vain images, and bring your 
soul to a proper attitude of reverence and love, 
without the added embarrassment of arrang 
ing words by the rules of rhetoric and taste. 
This is an occupation which interferes with 
the spirituality of the duty you are per- 
forming. I beseech you to disregard it 
altogether. 

As respects times and seasons, it may be 
considered as a salutary rule, that it is better 
to pray often than long. There are times, 
undoubtedly, when the mind is glowing and 
the heart full, that the exercise may be advan- 
tageously continued through a long period, 
and the disciple, like his Master, may spend 
the whole night in prayer. It would be a 
pity to check the current when it flows thus 



100 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

spontaneously, or to lose the luxury of such 
a season. There may be occasions, too, 
when duty and improvement sha.l seem to 
demand an extraordinary continuance in 
devotion. I do not therefore recommend 
that you should limit yourself to a certain 
stinted number of minutes. But, as a 
general rule, do not covet long prayers; 
rather multiply their number than increase 
their length. This is the rule of Christ; 
who insists that we pray often and always, 
but that we do not pray long. A most 
wise regulation. For the mind is easily 
wearied by a long exercise, and is likely to 
return to it slowly and reluctantly; and in the 
interval, it is liable to go back, like the 
swinging pendulum, into a directly opposite 
state. From which cause it may too readily 
happen that the extended devotions of the 
morning shall exhaust the attention of the 
mind, and produce religious listlessness during 
the day. Whereas, a shorter act of worship, 
which should excite without exhausting, which 
should kindle the fire but not burn it out, 
would leave a glow upon the feelings, that 
would abide for hours, and prompt to hc!y 



A 



PRAYER. 101 

thouglits and spontaneous acts of worship at 
short intervals throughout the day. In this 
manner, the great object of keeping up a 
rehgious wakefulness and sensibility is with 
greater certainty obtained, and the whole 
current of life more surely colored by the 
infusion of religious sentiment. 

Let this, therefore, be your method. Ac- 
custom yourself to what is called ejaculatory 
prayer ; that is, to very frequent petitions and 
thanksgivings, bursting out from your soul at 
all times and wherever you may be. Walk 
with God as you would journey with an 
intimate friend ; not satisfied to make forma) 
addresses to him at stated seasons, but turning 
to him in brief and familiar speech wheneve? 
opportunity offers, or occasion or feeling 
prompts. Remember that ceremonious ad- 
dresses are appointed, and are chiefly necessa- 
ry, on social and ceremonious occasions, when 
a company of mJn is together, and many 
minds are to act at once. They can act and 
be acted upon simultaneously in no other 
way ; and therefore, in civil and state affairs, 
as well as in religious, this method is in use 
But when we come to more private, domestic, 
9* 



102 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

confidential intercourse, we abandon these 
formal and complimentary arrangements, and 
find it most natural and happy to do as occa- 
sion prompts, in a free and unrestrained style 
of conduct and of speech. Just so it should 
be in our more private and confidential 
communion with the great Father of our 
spirits. The more it is unembarrassed by 
precise forms and ceremonious appendages, 
and left to the promptings of the feelings and 
of the moment, the more appropriate is it to 
our title of * children,' and the greater is the 
felicity which it furnishes. 

It has, of course, been implied in the pre- 
ceding remarks, that all is to be done in the 
spirit of devotion. In what manner this may 
be effected, it is necessary to state more 
distinctly ; and the rules to be given for this 
end will sufficiently explain in what that 
spirit consists. 

First, then, the genuine, effectual prayer 
IS the prayer of Faith ; not of words, not of 
form ; not an enercise of the understanding, 
reasoning on the attributes and dispensations 
of God, and uttering its judgments on duty : 
but an address to him, accompanied by a 



I'RAYER. 



103 



.'X)nficlent persuasion that he liears and rejrards. 
' He that cometh to God,' says the Apostle, 
' must believe that he is, and that he is a 
rewarder of them that diligently seek him.' 
Of this there must be no doubt on the mind. 
You must realize that you are actually speak- 
ing to him, and he listening to you, as truly 
as when you address yourself to a visible 
mortal ; and you must have as real a conviction 
that something depends on the act, and as real 
a desire to receive what you ask for, as when 
you make a request for some important favor 
to a human friend. If you doubt, your prayer 
is weak and inedicacious. 'Ask in faith,' 
says James, * nothing wavering ; for he that 
wavereth is like a wave of the sea, driven 
with the wind and tossed.' His uncertain 
and fluctuating mind wants stability, and 
cannot receive a blessing. Therefore it is 
added, * Let not that man think that he shall 
obtain any thing from the Lord.' May we 
not suppose, that much of the dissatisfaction 
attendant on our prayers, and much of their 
unfruitfulness, is owhig to the doubtful, 
hesitatmg state of mind in which they are 
offered? And what can be more miserably 



104 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

destructive of all energy and interest in the 
employment? If you doubt vvhetlier you 
shall be heard, you will pray timidly and 
coldly, without courage or spirit. If your 
prayers are thus lifeless, your conduct will 
be so too, and all spiritual savor will fade 
away from your life. Do not, then, allow in 
yourself this doubtfulness of temper. The 
most extravagant fanaticism, which sees a 
visible light descending as it prays, and finds 
an answer in presentiments and dreams, 
is not more mistaken, and is far more happy. 
Give yourself up to the assurance, that they 
who ask shall be heard, and go * boldly to 
the throne of grace.' Jesus, by his invitations 
and doctrine, has given you a right to this 
confidence; and it is only in the exercise 
of it, humbly, but firmly, that you may * cast 
out th-e fear which hath torment.' 

Next, your prayer must be fervent; that 
is, your affections must be engaged and in- 
terested in it. You must not barely, as a 
reasoning philosopher, or well instructed pupil, 
declare what you coolly judge to be right, 
and assert that man, in his present relations, 
ought to seek and ^o what is right, and tha* 



PRAYER. |{)'^ 

God, as the Father and Governor, should be 
adored and obeyed (which is the tenor of the 
devotional exercises one sometimes hears) ; 
but you must set yourself actually to do these 
things. You can only be said to pray when 
the sentiment you utter springs from your 
heart; and, rising above all the arguments 
and persuasions of the wise, you pour out 
your feelings, as a little child confides its 
thoughts to a parent's bosom ; thinking only 
of your own dependence and need, and of 
God's ability and readiness to succor you, 
and earnestly aspiring after that purity and 
piety, which you feel to constitute the excel- 
lence and bliss of man. When this fervent 
glow is upon your mind, you pray in the 
spirit. Seek for it. Be not content with- 
out it. 

In the njext place, do not allow yourself to 
grow weary. Persevere ; however ill satisfied, 
however discouraged, persevere. Open the 
New Testament, and you will see how this is 
insisted upon, again and again, and by various 
illustrations. ' That men should always pray, 
and never faint,' was the great moral of more 
than one of our Lord's parables ; and to ' pray 



106 



MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 



without ceasing' was tlie corresponding direc- 
tion of liis Apostles. Situated as we are in 
this world, there is danger that, perceiving little 
immediate fruit from our devotions, we should 
relax our diligence in them; first doubting 
their value, then losing our interest in them, 
and then ceasing to perform them. But we 
should recollect, that, in this case, as in all 
the most important and admirable provisions 
of Divine Wisdom, it is the order of Heav- 
en to give, not to a single exertion, nor to a 
few acts, nor even to some continuance of 
effort, but only to a long, unremitted, perse- 
vering effort. We read this lesson every 
where. Look at that glorious operation of 
God, by which the sun cherishes and matures 
the fruits of the earth for the sustenance of 
its creatures. It is not accomplished by one 
act, nor by several acts, nor yet by sudden, 
violent exertions of power. He sends out his 
beams steadily, day by day, month after 
month ; yet the fruit is still green, the harvest 
immature; and if, weary with the work, he 
should abandon it, famine might devastate the 
globe, when but six days' longer perseverance 
would see it successful. The whole toil of the 



PRAYER 



107 



season might thus be lost, when a trifling addi- 
tion only was necessary to render it all-effective. 
In how many other cases is the same truth il- 
lustrated ! Will you, then, abandon your pray- 
ers, because you do not witness the effect from 
them which you desire? Will you be discour- 
aged, when, by a little longer continuance, you 
may receive the full blessing at once ? Shall 
the husbandman ' wait patiently,' and will 
you, looking for an immortal harvest, lose it 
for want of patience ? No. This is the eter- 
nal, immutable rule in regard to all great ac- 
quisitions. Piety and virtue, character and 
immortality, depend upon a long succession 
of actions, neither of them, taken singly, of 
essential moment, yet all, in the aggregate, es- 
sential to effect the great end in view. Apply 
this consideration to your prayers, and reso- 
lutely persevere. 

Thus it is the humble prayer of confident 
faith, fervent and persevering, from which 
you are to hope benefit and acceptance. 

But you may ask. How shall I know that it 
is accepted, and with what answer should I be 
satisfied ? 

To the first part of this question, there is 



108 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

but one reply. If you are conscious of having 
prayed ariglit, you may be assured that your 
prayer is accepted. You can have no exter- 
nal evidence of the fact ; but the Scriptures 
every wliere dechire, that a right prayer 
is certainly accepted. This, then, is a reason 
for self-examination, and for carefully regu- 
lating the state of your mind. 

You may imagine, however, that you are 
rather to judge by the answer to your prayers ; 
and that if, after offering earnest petitions for 
certain blessings, you find them denied, you 
are to suppose that your devotions are not ac- 
cepted. 

In regard to this, I observe, that the purpose 
of prayer is twofold — particular and general ; 
the first, to supplicate certain specific bless- 
ings which we need or desire ; the second, to 
obtain the divine favor in general ; or, which 
is equivalent to it, to obtain that state of mind 
and heart which is always an object of com- 
placency with God, and secures his permanent 
approbation. Now it is evident, that the 
latter is an object infinitely more important 
than the former. It is of no consequence 
whether your receive certain gifi;s of health, or 



PRAYER. 109 

safety, or prosperous affairs, in comparison 
with the importance of attaining that frame of 
60ul which God approves, and which will fit 
you for heaven. If, then, you have plainly 
gathered from your devotions the advantage 
of a religious growth, if you are brought by 
them nearer to God, formed into the likeness 
of Jesus Christ, and made superior to the 
things of earth and sense; — then you have 
gained the highest objects which man may as- 
pire to, and should feel no dissatisfaction or 
doubt because inferior blessings are denied. 
Having received the greater, you should be 
content not to receive the less. And this is a 
sufficient reply to the second part of the ques- 
tion stated above: viz. With what answer 
shall I be satisfied ? Be satisfied with that an- 
swer which is found in the improving state of 
your own religious affections; in the peace, 
serenity, confidence, and hope, which belong 
to a mind habitually conversant with God, and 
which God bestows only on such. 

I do not mean to say, that other and more 

specific answers may not be sometimes given ; 

for doubtless the devout mind may often have 

reason to trace particular blessings, and with 

10 



I 10 MEANS OF Ri:H(JI()US IMI'KOVEMENT. 

a practised eye may trace thcfn, to a source 
which has been opened in reply to the prayer 
of faith. Wlieii you sliall perceive it to be so 
in your own case, iiappy will you be; and 
you will not fail to acknowledge it with suit- 
able gratitude. But what I mcan^to say is, 
that this is not what you are habitually to ex- 
pect; you are not to wait for this in order 
to the satisfaction of your mind. God feeds 
his children with spiritual food; and it is 
one part of his discipline of their faith, to 
deny them temporal blessings in order to 
the more abundant bestowal of those that are 
spiritual ; to advance the moral man to perfec- 
tion through the disappointment or mortifica- 
tion of the outward man. Do not, then, be 
uneasy, because your prayers may at first view 
seem inefficacious. The service of truth and 
virtue is not to be rewarded by the wages of 
this world's goods. Health, strength, riches, 
prosperity, are not the best, they are not the 
appropriate, recompense, for self-denial, humil- 
ity, benevolence, and purity. The true recom- 
pense is eternal and imperishable. If you 
have this, why be dissatisfied that you have 
rir/i die other? If you have this, how can 



PRAYER. Ill 

you fancy that God lias not accepted your 
prayer ? 

To wliicli it may be added, that, if you 
prayed ariglit, you prayed in the spirit of sub- 
mission ; not only acknowledging, but feeling, 
the wisdom of Heaven to be greater than your 
own, and desiring to obtain only such gifts as 
that wisdom should judge it best to bestow. 
Such gifts, of course, are granted. If, there- 
fore, you were sincere, you should be content. 
You are not relieved, perhaps, from the 
trouble against which you prayed; the evil 
you fear comes, the good you desire is denied, 
notwithstanding your earnest supplication. 
But does it follow that your prayer is slighted ? 
Believe it not. What you designed was, to 
ask blessings; you named the things which 
you esteemed such ; but at the same time you 
knew that your judgment was fallible. If 
God has refused the things specified, it is be- 
cause in his judgment they would not prove 
blessings, and he has bestowed in their stead 
an increase of faith, which is a real blessing. 
Or perhaps I may say, he has proposed to you 
1 discipline of your faith, which will prove a 
transcendent good, unless, by your blind dis- 



1 12 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

content and misuse of it, you turn it into a 



curse 



It will follow from these remarks, that we 
are to dwell in prayer on topics rather of a 
spiritual than of a temporal nature ; that we 
should ask such things as relate rather to our 
character than to our condition, rather to our 
religious than to our worldly prosperity. For, 
these being the chief objects of desire and 
happiness (so much so, that our petitions for 
earthly good oftentimes receive no reply 
but in the state of our own minds), it must 
follow that they should be our chief objects 
of interest and desire in our exalted hours 
of communication with God. Our religious 
addresses in those hours are made up of 
adoration, thanksgiving, confession, petition. 
Now, two of these, adoration and confession, 
relate to spiritual objects exclusively. The 
other two relate to objects of both a spiritual 
and temporal character, the blessings and 
wants of both soul and body. But it is plain 
that the former far exceed the latter in num- 
ber and in importance, and should therefore 
occupy the larger share of attention. If, then, 
you would do what is most consonant to the 



PRATER. 113 

nature of the exercise, and your own most 
real wants ; if you would receive blessings 
corresponding to the petitions you express: 
you will dwell principally on spiritual and 
immortal good ; seeking first of all, in 
prayer as at all times, ' the kingdom of God 
and its righteousness.' You will do this, 
also, if you would copy the pattern which 
our Lord has given ; for of the seven sen- 
tences of the prayer which he taught his 
disciples, only one has relation to man's tem- 
poral condition. You will do it, if you would 
imitate our great Exemplar and Master, 
whose recorded j)rayers have exclusive 
regard to the welfare of his spiritual king- 
dom and the bestowment of internal bless- 
ings. 

And it is not to the example alone of the 
Saviour that you are to have reference in 
your prayers. You are also to regard him 
as the Mediator through whom they are to 
be offered. It belongs to the system of our 
religion, that the thought of its Founder 
should be associated in the minds of its dis- 
ciples with all that they are and do; with 
their sense of obligation, and their sentiments 
10* L 



114 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

of piety. They are ' to do every thing in the 
name of tlie Lord Jesus ;' with a conscious- 
ness of their connexion with him, and of their 
dependence upon tlie instruction, motives, 
and strength, wliich they have received from 
him. They are ' to walk by faith in the Son 
of God.' His image is to be blended with their 
whole life. Especially is this to be the case in 
the acts of life which are strictly and pecu- 
liarly religious. ' Whatsoever ye ask in my 
name, believing.' * Giving thanks unto God 
and the Father by him.' It is only through 
his instruction, authority, and encouragement, 
that they know their privilege of filial worship, 
and are enabled so to offer it that they may 
look for acceptance. The hope of pardon on 
the confession of sin is grounded upon what 
he has done, suffered, and declared; and 
the confidence with which the penitent seeks 
forgiveness and life, is owing to his trust in 
the word of Jesus, and his being able to lean 
on him as a friend and advocate, when he 
casts himself a suppliant before God. Under- 
stand, then, that the acceptable prayer is that 
w'hich is made in the name of the great In- 
tercessor: and let your heart be warmed 



PRAYER. 115 

and imboldened in your devotions by the con- 
sciousness of your relation to him * whom the 
Father heareth always.' 

I will add but two further remarks before 
closing this topic. First, I have all along 
assumed, that I am addressing a person sin- 
cerely engaged in the pursuit of religious 
attainments. This sincerity of pursuit is a 
fundamental requisite, without which all ex- 
hortations, means, assistance, sacrifices, will 
be only thrown away. If, therefore, after 
having made some effort after a spirit of de- 
votion, in pursuance of the course recom- 
mended, you find, as men sometimes do, that 
you derive from it neither improvement nor 
satisfaction, I recommend to you to examine 
whether you are really in earnest; whether 
you do, actually in your heart, desire reli- 
gious improvement; whether, in short, there 
oe not in you a lurking preference for your 
present state of mind, and an attachment to 
some passion, taste, or pursuit, incompatible 
with a zealous devotedness to Christian truth, 
and a suitable attention to the discipline 
which it demands. Many are, no doubt, pre- 
vented from advancement by secret bin* 



116 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROrEMENT. 

iierances of tins nature, of whose operation 
tiiey are not at all aware. If, upon inquiry, 
you cannot discover that it is so witli you, 
tlien examine strictly the methods you have 
pursued, and the observances you have prac- 
tised. You will probably find that they have 
been in some particulars injudiciously se- 
lected, or improperly or insufficiently attend- 
ed ; that you have failed m a resolute, 
steadfast, systematic adherence to your own 
rules; that you have habitually allowed 
yourself in something wrong, or neglected 
something right. Look after your mistake. 
When you shall have discovered and correct- 
ed it, you may be certain of securing the im- 
provement you desire. 

Secondly, take heed that you do not allow 
yourself to fancy, that an observance of 
these or similar rules constitutes all your duty 
under this head. Do not forget, that the 
devotion which Christianity teaches is nothing 
less than perpetually thinking, feeling, and 
acting, as becomes a child of God,— a perpet- 
ual worship. This is the end at which you 
are to aim; — an end, however, which is 
not to be attained without the use of 



PRAVER. in 

niiuins ; and the directions in llie preceding 
pacres are designed simply to point out some 
of the means. Some persons do not need 
such directions. For them they are not 
designed. But there are others to whom they 
must be welcome and wholesome. Let such 
use them, but without forgetting that they are 
means only. Let them guard, from the first 
and always, against the idea, that the practice 
of these will secure the great object, without 
any further exertion or sacrifice ; that to be 
devout men, they have only to observe stated 
seasons, and perform stated acts. There 
cannot be a more pernicious error. It is at 
variance with the whole nature and spirit of 
Christianity. God is to be served by the en- 
tire life ; by its actions as well as its thoughts, 
its duties as well as its desires, its deeds as 
well as its feelings. 

The religious man must have the frame of 
his mind and the tenor of his conduct at all 
times religious ; in the market and the family 
no less than in the closet and the church. In- 
deed, considering how much more of life is 
spent abroad in action and trial than is passed 
in the worship and contemplation of retire- 



118 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

ment, it is plainly of greater consequence to 
watch and labor in the world than in private. 
Besides that it is easier to be religiously dis- 
posed for an hour a day, when readhig the 
Bible or kneeling at the altar, than it is To be 
so during the many other hours which are full 
of the world's temptations, and when all the 
irregular passions are liable to be excited. 
Remember, then, to try your prayers by your 
life ; you may know how sincere they are, by 
their agreement or disagreement with your 
habitual sentiments and conduct. Regulate 
your life by your prayers; in vain do you 
think yourself religious, if you go with holy 
words and humble confessions to the Divine 
presence, but at other times live in thought- 
lessness and sin. True religion is a single 
thing. Devout exercises form a part of its 
exhibition; holy living forms another part. 
Unless they exist together, it is to no purpose 
that they exist at all. To separate them is to 
destroy the religion. To this consideration, 
then, let your perpetual and vigilant attention 
be given ; and be satisfied with your hours of 
devotion only when they exercise a sacred 
and constant influence over the condition of 



PREACHING 119 

your mind and life, and have made them holy 
to the Lord. 

IV. Preaching. 

From the more private means of religious 
improvement, we pass to the consideration of 
those which are in their nature public. 

Preaching is a divine institution; and its 
authority and wisdom have been illustriously 
justified in the success which has attended it in 
every age of the church. It is to a publica- 
tion from the lips of living teachers, that the 
gospel owes its spread through so large a por- 
tion of the globe. At its first introduction, 
at its reformation, and in its present diffusion, 
it has been the * company of the preachers ' 
that has arrested attention to its divine truths, 
and subdued the hearts of men to its holy 
power. And it always must be the case, how- 
ever great may be the efficacy of those more 
personal instruments of which we have spoken, 
that the pulpit shall be the main engine for 
the incitement and instruction of the individual 
mind, and the maintenance of the power of re- 
ligion in the Christian world. 

Multitudes, however, habitually attend the 



120 AiE.iNs OF iu:li(;i()us improvement. 

preaclimg of the gosi^el, with little profit, aim 
with no adequate apprehension of its purpose 
or value, llahit, thoughtlessness, inattention, 
worldliness, cause its sublime instructions to 
he unheeded, and render its powerful appeals 
unimpressive. It may have been so with you, 
m times past. But if you are now truly awake 
to the necessity of studying the improvement 
of your character, and making God's will the 
rule of your life, you will listen eagerly to the 
preaching of his truth, and drink it in as a 
thirsty man water. I say nothing, therefore, 
to urge the duty of attendance in the house of 
prayer. You will esteem it one of your privi- 
leges, and will feel that, however imperfectly 
the word may be dispensed, it is yet full of a 
divine savor, and profitable to any one who 
seeks his soul's good rather than his mind's 
entertainment. 

In order to the greatest advantage from this 
duty, it is well, in the first place, to give heed 
to the manner in which the other hours of the 
Sabbath are spent. There can be no doubt 
that one considerable cause of the ineflicacy 
of preaching is to be found in the circum- 
stance that the remainder of the Sabbath is 



PREACHING. 12] 

passed i.i a manner little likely to prepare the 
mind for its religious services, and suited to 
obliterate the impressions received from them. 
The sentiments excited in holy time, instead 
of being cherished, are checked and smother- 
ed by the uncongenial engagements of the rest 
of the day ; and Sunday becomes at length 
even a day for hardening the heart, through 
this habitual resistance of the most solemn 
truths. For, when exposed to their frequent 
repetition, if it do not yield to them, it must 
inevitably become callous to them. This evil 
you are to guard against, by making the whole 
occupation of the day harmonize with that 
portion of it which is spent in public worship. 
And to do this implies no fanatical recluseness 
or morose sullenness. It implies nothing but 
the endeavor of a reasonable man, who finds 
that the cares of the six days tend to distract 
his feelings from religion, to counteract them 
on the day set apart for that purpose. It is 
only saying, with regard to all worldly occu- 
pations, what Burke said of politics in the 
pulpit; — Six days are full of them, and six 
days are enough ; let us give one day to some- 
thing better. 

11 



122 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

You Will therefore be careful so to spend 
your morning hours, that you shaJl enter the 
sanctuary with a prepared mind,-already 
touched with a sense of God, and tuned to his 
praise. Your reading and your, thoughts will 
be directed to this purpose; and instead of 
cherishing or inviting vain thoughts and a 
light state of feeling, by lounging over a news- 
paper, or a novel, or by conversation on the 
passing events of the day, you will occupy 
yourself on such subjects as shall hallow the 
temper of your mind, and exclude the crowd 
of impertinent desires. Then you will be 
ready to join feelingly in the public service of 
your Maker, and listen profitably to the exhor- 
tations of the pulpit. 

You have doubtless observed in your own 
case, and heard it remarked by others, that 
the same discourse, under different circum- 
stances, seems like a very different thing; that 
what at one time is listened to with pleasure 
and interest, at another is heard with indiffer- 
ence. To what can this be owing, but to the 
variation in the hearer's state of mind? The 
discourse is the same; but it addresses itself 
to a soul at one time tuned to the occasion 



pur.Acm.vG. 123 

and the subject, and at another tuned to some- 
thing else. So important is adaptation ; — as 
might be illustrated in a thousand ways. 
Hence you will study to carry a prepared 
mind to the hearing of the word, that you may 
not fail of receiving the utmost edification. 
Otherwise you may sit under the most powerful 
ministry, and hear divine truth dispensed with 
an eloquence worthy of angels, and yet sit 
unmoved. It can be powerful to your heart, 
it can effectually promote your progress in the 
Christian life, only through your own prepara- 
tion to receive it, and in proportion to that 
preparation. 

Let me also caution you to remember, that 
there is good and important matter belonging 
to every subject which the pulpit may treat ; 
and it is very unwise (to use the mildest 
expression) to turn away dissatisfied, because 
a sermon does not happen to fall in with the 
state of your feelings. Hearers are often 
guilty of great injustice in this way. They 
are too ready to measure the preacher's fidelity 
by the degree in which he speaks to their own 
immedip.te experience. They are earnestly 
engaged in particular views, feelings, trains 



124 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

of thoiifrlit, processes of experience, whic}\ 
filling their mind, seem to them all in all ; 
and if the preacher does not touch upon these, 
they condemn him as dry, cold, and jejune. 
But they should consider, that there are other 
minds to be suited besides their own, and that 
what is so ill adapted to themselves may be 
precisely what is needed by others; nay, 
precisely what they themselves may need at 
another time. Instead of expressing dissatis- 
faction, they should rejoice that every one 
receives in turn a portion adapted to him, and 
endeavor to elicit something applicable to 
themselves. If they will but seek, they will 
often find a seasonable word when they 
least expect it. Let me entreat you to 
make this your habit. If you do not, it is 
plain that many Sundays will be lost to you, 
(for you cannot have your own case always 
treated,) and you will, moreover, become a 
fastidious and querulous hearer, discontented 
with yourself, and uncomfortable to others. 
But if you resolutely bring your mind to take 
an interest in whatever you hear, you will 
always find cause for contentment and satis- 
faction, if not for edification and delight 



PREACHING. 125 

Few things are more liostile to such attend- 
ance on preaching as shall promote religious 
improvement, than the hahit of listening to 
sermons as literary or rhetorical efforts, and 
for the gratification of a literary taste. From 
the very nature of the case, it must result in 
constant dissatisfaction. For let it be con- 
sidered hou few of all the authors who have 
published books, are able to give this gratifica- 
tion ; and can it, then, be expected of every 
preacher? How small a proportion of the 
thousands who have preached, have printed 
their sermons ! and how few of these have a 
place among the eminent names of literature ! 
Hence it is impossible that every preacher 
should, every Sunday, satisfy a man who has 
formed his taste on printed specimens of 
excellence, and who comes to gratify it at 
church. It is inevitable that such a one 
should be disappointed and displeased, far 
more often than he shall be tolerably gratified, 
'^hose who, on this ground, are accustomed 
to speak harshly of ministers, and to excite 
discontent in the community, would do well to 
reflect on the unreasonableness of the requisi- 
tion, and learn that they injure themselves by 
11* 



126 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

coking for what they cannot expect to find, to 
the neglect of that substantial good which 
alone is intended to be conveyed. But he 
who thinks only of improvement, and the reli- 
gious exercise of his mind, will always find 
something to engage and satisfy him. Dis- 
tinguished talent there may not be, nor 
original thought, nor striking images, nor 
tasteful composition, nor eloquent leclama- 
tion ; but Christian truth, old and familiar 
perhaps, but still high and important, there al- 
ways will be. Dwelling upon this, excited 
by it to reflection, occupied in studying by its 
light his own character and prospects, and the 
perfections and purposes of God, he has no 
lack of interesting thought. The preacher 
becomes but a secondary object. His God, 
his duty, his salvation,— these are the topics 
on which his mind runs ; and these he can 
contemplate: Tie will not be hindered from 
contemplating them, whatever may be the 
feebleness or deficiencies of him who ministers 
at the altar. 

Bacon has laid dorni a rule for profitable 
reading, which ought to be sacredly applied to 
preaching, by those who would listen to it 



PREACHING. 127 

profitably : * Read, not to contradict and 
confute, nor to believe and take for granted 
nor to find talk and discourse, but to weigh 
and consider.* What you hear from your 
minister, ' weigh and consider ' for a religious 
end and a personal application. To listen as 
a critic, with a fastidious nicety about diction, 
and a captious sensibility to style, is a sure 
method to defeat what should be the first 
object with the hearer, as it is the great 
purpose of the speaker. For which reason, it 
has been remarked, we are not to be surprised 
that Paul, with all his energy of speech, made 
so few converts, and gathered no church, 
among the Athenians ; the sensitive and intel- 
lectual taste, and love of ingenious fancies, 
v/hich distinguished them, formed a habit of 
mind peculiarly fitted to destroy the capacity 
for receiving any strong and profound impres- 
bions. 

In the next place, if you think that when 
you leave the house of God, you may dis- 
charge from your mind the thoughts and 
sentiments there excited ; if you immediately 
join in frivolous society and ordinary conver- 
sation ; if you occupy your time in making 



128 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

visits of ceremony, or in reading the Sunday 
newspaper and books of amusement, you can 
derive little advantage from the service in 
which you have engaged. However serious 
may have been your attendance, however 
earnest the wish for improvement, you are 
taking the surest method to render it all 
vain. The word spoken must be treasured 
up, the counsels of wisdom must be made to 
abide in the heart, the instructions and 
warnings of Heaven must be fixed by reflec- 
tion and thought, or the impressions you have 
received will be transitory, and the good 
purposes which spring up within you will pass 
away like the early dew. If the preacher 
have presented arguments for the truth of 
Christianity, or for the support of any of its 
great doctrines, of what use has this been to 
you, if you shall know nothing about them 
to-morrow? And how can you hope to re- 
member what is so difficult to be retained, if 
you take no pains to refresh your mind with 
it by immediate retirement and contempla- 
tion? If he have been urging you to the 
study of your own heart, and pointing out the 
sources of self-deception, and the means of 



PREACHING. 129 

preservation against the sins which easily 
beset you, and you have been affected and 
humbled, and made to resolve on greater 
watchfulness; of what avail will this be, if 
you immediately abandon yourself to frivolous 
topics of thought? and how are you any the 
better prepared for the temptations and trials 
of to-morrow, if you thus drive from your 
mind those views which were to strengthen 
you? Or, if he have presented to you the 
elevating truths respecting God, and heaven, 
and man's prospects of glory, and thus raised 
in your spirit a glow of divine love, and a 
sense of your exalted destiny, and you at once 
turn from it all to employments and thoughts 
which are wholly of earth ; then is not that 
holy excitement worse than lost? have you 
not done something to harden your heart, and 
render it less capable of receiving the same 
impression again ? For you have resisted its 
motions, and quenched its fire, by calling it 
back to this lower world when it was just be- 
ginning to delight itself in heaven. 

Depend upon it, that the mere attendance 
upon public worship is very insufficient, with- 
out some care to fix its impressions afterward, 

M 



130 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

and to recall and strengthen what you have 
heard and enjoyed. It is wise, therefore, to 
go back from church to retirement, there to 
think over the truths tliat you have heard, 
refresh the feelings that you have indulged, 
apply to your conscience the doctrine deliver- 
ed, and supplicate the divine blessing. By 
habitually doing this, you will in time become 
possessed of a large fund of religious informa- 
tion and moral truth, which otherwise might 
have been lost to you ; and instead of being 
in the condition of those, who cannot per- 
ceive that the pulpit has ever taught them any 
thing, you will find it a most efficient and per- 
suasive instructer. 

It is a custom, with seme persons, to make 
a record of the discourses which they have 
heard, entering in a book the texts and 
subjects, together with a brief sketch of the 
train of remark. This is a very commenda- 
ble and useful custom, provided it be not al- 
lowed to take off one's thoughts from the 
duty of self-application, and do not become a 
mere effort of memory and trial of skill. If 
this be avoided, the practice will be found 
useful in many respects. The exercise of 



PREACHING. 13J 

writing greatly assists that of thinking, and 
iliscovers to one whether his ideas are dis- 
tinct and clear. It enables and compels him 
to look closely at the subject, so that he 
cannot dismiss it with the cursory and 
impatient examination which he might be 
otherwise tempted to give it. It enables him 
afterwards to read, with distinctness, the 
impressions which he received, and to revive 
the purposes which he formed in consequence 
of them. His record becomes a spiritual 
monitor, reminding him, whenever he consults 
it, of the lessons he has learned, and the 
expostulations he has heard ; and prompting 
him to a more definite comparison of his 
actual attainments with the standard which 
has been placed before him. The advan- 
tages, which may thus be derived from it, will 
be far more than a compensation for all the 
trouble attending it. 

But, whether you make such memoranda or 
not, the practice of recalling to mind the 
instructions and reflections of God's house, 
if systematically pursued, will save you from 
the pain of making the complaint which we 
hear from so many that they cannot rer.iem- 



132 ftlEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

ber what they have heard, oftentimes not even 
the text; and this, too, from persons who can 
repeat all the particulars of a long story to 
which they have listened, or a longsr con- 
versation in which they have taken oart. 
Why this difference? Partly because they 
attended with greater interest to the story and 
the conversation, partly because these are 
more easily remembered than a formal dis- 
course, but principally because these are 
matters that they are accustomed to recall to 
mind and repeat, which they have not been 
accustomed to do in regard to sermons. The 
want of practice is the principal difficulty. 
Make it an object always to remember, and 
be m the habit of going over again in your 
mind, the principal topics, and you will not be 
troubled with want of memory. 

I should do wrong, however, if I did not 
here speak a word of comfort to those humble 
and sincere Christians, whose advantages in 
early life were not such as to enable°them 
to form any habits of intellectual exertion, 
and who are, in consequence, subject to a 
weakness of memory which they have strufr- 
gled against in vain, and which is a sourc°e 



] 



PREACHINd 133 

of constant unliappiness to them. Everji 
thing they hear from the pulpit slips from 
their minds, even if it have highly moved and 
delighted them ; and they fear that this is a 
sign of unprofitahleness and sin. To such it 
may be well to recommend the reply of John 
Newton to one who came to him sorrowing 
with tlie same complaint. You forget, said 
he, what was preached to you. So, too, you 
forget upon what food you dined a week or a 
month ago ; yet you are none the less sure 
that you received nourishment from it : and 
no doubt, also, that your spiritual food nour- 
ished you, though you have forgotten in what 
it consisted. So long as you received it with 
pleasure and a healthy digestion, and it has 
kept you a living and growing soul, it can 
be of no consequence whether you can partic- 
ularly remember it or not. 

Finally, preaching, however ineffectual it 
may often prove, is one of the chief means of 
grace, and is capable of being made, by every 
mdividual, a principal agent in his religion? 
ad\"ancement. Let it be so to you. It will 
be so if you attend on it in a right spirit, and 
faithfully strive to gain nourishment from it. 
12 



134 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

Do not let it be your shame and guilt, that 
you sit year after year within hearing of the 
preacher's voice, and yet are none the better. 
Do not suffer it to be with yourself, as it is 
with many, that preaching grows less inter- 
esting as they advance. This, it is true, is 
in pirt owing to the nature of the mind, 
which finds a delight in what is new and 
fresh, which it does not perceive in what has 
been' long familiar. There is a charm in 
listening to the word preached, when the 
soul is first awakened to an interest in the 
concerns of its salvation, and devours every 
sentence as a hungry man his food, which 
cannot be fully retained in cooler and ma- 
turer years. But if the charm be entirely 
gone, if the relish be altogether lost, it must 
be through your own fault. It must be 
because you have not watched over the tastes 
and susceptibility of your mind, but have, 
through neglect, saffered it to become hard- 
ened. Be but faithful to yourself, cherish 
your tenderness of spirit, take pains to keep 
alive the ardor and interest of your younger 
days, and you will find that your feelings will 
not become wholly dead to the voice of the 



PREACHING. 135 

preacher, nor will time and age be able to rob 
you of this source of your enjoyment. The 
ancient philosopher, on whom has been well 
bestowed the title of ' Rome's least mortal 
mind,' in writing beautifully of old age, tells 
us, that the great reason why the faculties of 
men are impaired in the declining years of a 
long life, is, that they cease to use and exer- 
cise them ; and that any man, by continuing 
vigorously to exert them as in earlier life, 
may hope to retain them to the last, in some- 
thing of their original power. The remark 
may be applied to the old age of the Chris- 
tian. By faithfully watching over and exer- 
cising his feelings and emotions, he may 
retain them in some good degree of liveliness 
and vigor to the latest period. And although 
the zest with which he hung on the minis- 
tration of the word, in the first ardor of his 
youthful faith, may be gone, he will maintain 
a sober interest, and find a tranquil delight, 
suited to the serenity of his fading days, and 
to the peacefulness of the expectation with 
which he waits the summons to go home. 



136 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

V. The Lord's Supper. 

This interesting rite is the last in the series 
of Christian means which I shall mention. 
It is that to which the young disciple is 
accustomed to look forward with intense feel- 
ing, and the arrival at which constitutes an 
era in his progress fondly expected and 
fondly remembered. Sometimes it appears 
to be regarded too much as the limit of 
improvement, the goal of the course, the prize 
of the victory, after which the believer is to 
sit down and enjoy in security the attainments 
he has made, exempt from the necessity of 
further watchfulness and combat. It is 
owing, in no small degree, to the prevalence 
of this opinion, that so many make no actual 
or perceptible progress after their arrival at 
the Lord's table. They esteem it less as the 
means and incitement of greater improvement, 
than as the end and completion of the work 
they had undertaken ; not so much a refresh- 
ment to their weakness in the trying journey 
of duty, as the festival which rewards its 
termination. Be on your guard against this 
erroneous feeling. Habitually remember, thai 
your vigilance and labor are to end only al 



THE lord's supper. 137 

the grave ; that the fight lasts as long as life ; 
♦hat the crown of the victor is * laid up in 
heaven ; ' and that whatever indulgences may 
be granted here, they are but as encour- 
agements to your perseverance and strength- 
eners to your weakness, designed to cheer 
and help you on your way ; not seasons of 
repose and enjoyment, but of recollection and 
preparation ; — so that they, in fact, form a part 
of that system of discipline, by which every 
thing below is made to try and prove the 
character of man. 

In this light you will view the peculiar 
ordinance of our faith, — as a privilege and 
indulgence, but also as a pledge and incite- 
ment to activity in duty. From the moment 
that it has been your purpose to become a 
follower of Christ, you have looked forward 
to this holy feast as something which it would 
make you but too blest to be permitted to 
partake. While occupied with other means 
of improvement, you have still felt that there 
was one thing lacking, and have perhaps 
been stimulated to a more earnest diligence 
in the use of them, by the reflection that they 
wrould prepare you for this ultimate and 
12* V 



138 MEANS OF RELKilOUS IMI'IIOVEMENT. 

superior enjoyment. Sncli is the very com- 
mon experience of the growing Christian ; 
and it is my wish to show you how that may 
be rendered a blessing in the enjoyment, 
whicli has been so eagerly desired in the 
anticipation. 

Settle it distinctly in your mind, that this 
ordinance, so far as relates to your concern in 
it, has a twofold purpose; first, to express 
and manifest your faith in Christ, and your 
allegiance and attachment to him; secondly^ 
to aid and strengthen you in a faithful 
adherence to his religion. That is to say, in 
other words, by your attendance at the Lord's 
table, you declare yourself to be, from principle 
and affection, a Christian ; and you seek to 
revive and confirm the sentiments, purposes, 
and habits, which belong to that character. 
These are the two objects which the ordi- 
nance is intended to accomplish, and which 
you are to have constantly in view. 

By considering the first of these, you will 
be enabled to decide how soon, and at what 
period, you ought to offer yourself for this 
celebration. Can you say, that you are in 
principle and affection a follower of Jesus 



THE lord's SUri'ER. I^VJ 

Cliritjt? This is the question you are to put 
to yourself; not whetlier you have been such 
for a long time; not how orreiit attainments 
you have made ; — but are you such at heart, 
and are you resolved perseveringly to main- 
tain this character? Look at this ques- 
tion. Ponder its meaning. Put it to your- 
self faithfully. Do nothing with haste or 
rashness, but proceed calmly and deliberate- 
ly. Then, if you can conscientiously reply 
in the affirmative, if you have already showed 
so much constancy in your efforts, that you 
may rationally hope to persevere, you may 
make your profession before men, and take 
the promised blessing. Hasty minds have 
sometimes rushed forward too soon, and only 
exposed their own instability, and brought dis- 
honor on their calling. Be not, therefore, has- 
ty. But timid men have sometimes hesitated 
too long; have delayed till their ardor cooled, 
till they fancied they could stand and flourish 
without any further help, till death or age over- 
took them, and they were called to meet their 
Lord without having confessed him before men 
Beware, therefore, that you delay not too long. 
To deliberate whether we shall observe a com- 



140 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

inandment, after our minds are impressed 
with a sense of the duty of doing so, is to 
break it. To postpone our acceptance of a 
privilege, when we feel that it is such, and 
know that it is offered to ourselves, is to re- 
fuse it, and to forego its benefits. He who 
believes, and is resolved to live and die in his 
belief, has a right to this ordinance ; he is 
under his Master's orders to attend it; and 
he should reflect, that obedience, to be ac- 
ceptable, should be prompt. 

As soon, therefore, as your attention to re- 
ligious things has sufficiently prepared and 
settled your mind, you will solemnly acknowl- 
edge it by this outward testimonial of faith. 
So far the ordinance looks to the past. It 
also looks to the future ; and you will, sec- 
ondly, as I said, use it as a salutary means of 
religious growth, appointed to this end, and 
singularly suited to accomplish it. You will 
regard it, and attend it, as one of the appropri- 
ate instruments by which you are to keep 
alive, and carry on to perfection, that principle 
of spiritual life, which has had birth within 
you, and which has made a certain progress 
toward maturity. 



THE LORDS SUPPER. 141 

It is a means singularly fitted to accomplish 
this end, because it is an ordinance at once 
so affecting and so comprehensive : — affecting, 
by bringing directly before us, in one collect- 
ed view, the circumstances under which it 
was instituted, and the purposes of Heaven 
with which it is connected ; — the trials and 
sufferings of the Son of man, the meekness 
and sublimity of his submission, the tender- 
ness and pathos of his last conversation and 
prayers, the desertion in which he was left; by 
his disciples, the insults to which he was ex- 
posed from his enemies, the torture in which 
he died, submissive and forgiving; and all 
this, that he might seal the truth which he had 
taught, and provide salvation for miserable 
men. It is true that all this is familiar to the 
mind, and often brought before it in other acts 
of worship. But here it forms the express 
subject of contemplation and prayer. Here it 
is set before us more evidently and vividly by 
the circiimstances, the forms, the apparatus of 
the occasion. It is made the special object 
of regard, and therefore is suited , in a pecu- 
liar manner, to affect us. 

It has another advantage. It is as compre- 



142 MEANS OF RELlCilOL'S IMPROVEMENT. 

hensive as it is affectiiicr. In its primitive in- 
tention, in its simple purpose, it is, as it was 
designated by our Lord himself, a commemo- 
ration of him : * This do in remembrance of 
me.' And what is it to remember Jesus, 
rightly and effectually, but to call to mind aiJ 
that he was, and did, and suffered, in his 
own person; and all the blessings, advantages, 
and hopes, which have resulted to us, and 
shall forever result, from his ministry' and 
death ? These are all connected together by 
one close and indissoluble chain. They are 
united, in inseparable union, with his name 
and memory. When we reflect on our Mas- 
ter, our minds cannot pause till they have 
gone over all his example in life and death 
have recalled his character and instructions,' 
have pondered on the excellence and beauty 
of his truths, the glory of his promises, the 
bliss of his inheritance. Thence they will pass 
on to survey the effects which he has already 
produced on the condition and character of the 
world, to observe the contrast of our present 
enviable lot with what it would have been if 
lie had not established his reign among men, 
ami to contemplate the spreading prosplc^s of 



THE lord's suiter. 143 

human felicity in the wider extension of hits 
kingdom ; — the removal of error, corruption, 
ignorance, and sin, and the establishment ol 
universal truth, righteousness, knowledge, and 
peace. Thence they will pass on to a future 
world : to the unseen and unimaginable joys 
of a life in which purity, love, and happiness, 
shall be infinite in measure, and infinite in 
duration, and where man, made the compan- 
ion of angels, freed from sin and from suffer- 
ing, shall dwell in the light of God's presence 
without end. We shall recollect, that for all 
our hope of acceptance to that world, and of 
pardon for the sins which have made us un- 
worthy of it ; for all those gifts of light and 
strength which shall prepare us for it ; for all 
the tranquillity, consolation, and support, 
which, in weakness, sorrow, and death, the 
knowledge of our immortality imparts, — for 
these we are indebted to Jesus Christ , 
without whom we should still have remained 
ignorant on this first of subjects, and uncon- 
soled in the severest trials. So that, in one 
word, there is no topic of religion, none of 
thanksgiving or prayer, none of penitence, 
gratitude or hope, none of present or of 



144 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT 

future felicity for ourselves or for others, 
which is not called up to the mind by the 
faithful use of this simple but expressive 
service. As the believer sits at his Master's 
table, he seems to himself to be sitting in his 
presence ; together with his image, every 
blessing of his faith and hope rises brightly to 
view; and his heart burns within him, as he 
contemplates the grace with which his 
unworthy spirit has been visited, and realizes 
the hope that he shall partake of the glories 
which his Lord revealed. As he looks unto 
him, ' the Author and Finisher of our faith, 
who, for the joy set before him, endured the 
cross, despising the shame,' he grows strong 
to do and endure likewise ; animated by the 
hope set before him of entering into the joy to 
which his crucified Master has ascended. 

Is it not, then, evident, that you have here a 
means of singular power, to keep the atten- 
tion awake and the heart right ; and that your 
spirit can hardly slumber, if you faithfully 
open it to the influences of this observance ? 
Remember, however, that itr value will de- 
pend on yourself, and the manner in which 
you engage in it. It has no mystical charm, 



THE lord's supper. 145 

no secret and magic power, to bless you 
acrairist your will. Every thing depends on 
your own sincerity and devotion. Earnestly 
desire, and pray, and endeavor that it may 
do you good, and it will do you good. Go to 
it heedless, thoughtless, and unprepared, and 
it will prove to you an idle md inefficient 
ceremony. The great cause why so many 
derive no improvement from the repeated per- 
formance of the duty, is, that they attend it 
with inconsideration and coldness, and with 
little purpose or desire of being affected by it. 
Let your attendance be in a different state 
of mind. Engage resolutely in the suitable 
meditations ; examine yourself before and 
after ; come to the celebration with a temper 
prepared for worship, and leave it with one 
prepared for duty. 

There is a peculiar feature in the mode 
of administering this ordinance, distinguish- 
ing it from all other acts of social worship, 
to which it may be well to advert. I refer to 
the pauses during its administration, when 
ea^h worshipper is left to himself, to follow 
his own leflections, and make his own pray- 
ers There are thus united in the occasion 
13 



I4G MEANS OF RELKilOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

some of the advantages both of social and 
of private devotion. When you liave been 
excited by the voice of the minister and of 
general prayer, you are permitted to retire, 
without interference, into your own heart, to 
repeat the petitions and confessions with a 
more close reference to your own case, and to 
make yourself certain that you understand 
and feel the service in which you are engaged. 
You may find a great advantage in these si- 
lent intervals. In all other instances of social 
worship, your attention is required, without 
ceasing, to some external process ; and you 
pass on from one part of the service to 
another, with little opportunity to reflect, as 
you proceed, or to pursue the suggestions 
which are made, in the manner that your own 
peculiar condition may require. But in this, 
the leisure is given for thoroughly applying 
to your own personal state all that has met 
your ear, and for pouring out freely the devo- 
tional feeling which has been excited. And if 
there be any thing favorable to the soul, as 
multitudes of devout persons have insisted, in 
occasions for contemplative worship in the 
presence of other men, then, in this respect, the 



THE lord's supper. I47 

Ix)rd's supper may claim a superiority over 
every other season of social devotion. 

Many persons, I am aware, find it difficult 
so to control their minds as to render these 
silent moments profitable. But to such per- 
sons the very difficulty becomes a useful disci- 
pline, and the occasion should be vaJued for 
the sake of it. To aid them in the use of it, 
and to prevent its running to waste in misera- 
ble listlessness and idle rovings of the mind, 
it might be well that they should have with 
them some suitable little book of mednations 
and reflections, which they may quietly consult 
in their seats as guides to thought and devo- 
tion. 

In a word, prepare your mind beforehand, 
be faithful during the celebration, review ir 
when it is past ; and you will never have rea- 
son to complain of its inefficacy as a means 
of religious improvement. You may not enjoy 
high and mystical raptures; you may be some- 
times overtaken \vith languor and coldness; 
but as k)ng as, in smcerity, and from motives 
of duty, you "present yourself in this way be- 
fore the Ix)rd, you will find that there is re- 
freshment and encouragement in the act 



148 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 



You will have in it satisfaction, if not ecstasy; 
and will never doubt that something of the 
steadfastness of your principle, and of the 
vigor of your hope, is owing to this affectionate 
application of the life, example and sacrifice 
of the Saviour, in the way of his appoiot- 
ment. 



THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. Hi) 



CHAPTER V. 

THE RELIGIOUS DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 

Next to the means to be employed m the 
promotion of person:il religion, we must at- 
tend to the oversight and direction of the 
character in general. The means of which 
we have taken notice, consist of a series of 
special and stated exercises, whose object is 
to prepare us for the right conduct of actual 
life ; and they may be compared to the daily 
drill of the soldier, by which he is made 
ready for the field. Watcli fulness and self- 
discipline belong to all times and occasions, 
and may be compared to the actual use which 
the soldier makes of his preparation in the 
camp and the field. The Christian is en- 
gaged occasionally in prayer, meditation, 
study, and the communion ; he must watch 
and govern himself always. To the former 
duties he devotes certain appropriate seasons ; 
the latter belong to every season and all hours. 
The former constitute his preparation for the 
13» 



150 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 

Christian life; the latter constitute its pervad 
ing spirit. No punctuality or fidelity in the 
former proves a man to be religious without 
the latter. And therefore, having stated the 
manner in which these means are to l>e used, 
it is necessary for us to go on and show how 
they are to affect the whole conduct of life, and 
make it an exercise of perpetual self-discipline. 
Why you are to be always watchful over 
yourself, is easily perceived. In this world 
of sensible objects and temporal pursuits, you 
are constantly exposed to have your thoughts 
absorbed by surrounding things, and with- 
drawn from the spiritual objects to which 
they should be primarily attached. You are 
incited to forget them, to slight them, to 
counteract them. The engagements, the 
anxiety, hurry, and pleasures of life, thrust 
them from your thoughts; and desires, pro- 
pensities, passions, are excited quite inconsist- 
ent with the calm and heavenward affections 
of Christ. All these tendencies in your situa- 
tion are to be resisted . You are to be ever on 
the alert, that mey may not lead you into any 
course of thought or of action at variance 
with the principles to which you are pledged 



THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 151 

as a believer in Jesus Christ, and whicli form 
your delight in your hours of devotional enjoy- 
ment. Such inconsistency may be sometimes 
witnessed. But what can be more melan- 
choly than to see a rational being, deeply 
convinced of the truths of religion, in his 
sober hours of thoutrht dwellinor on them with 
fond and delighted contemplation, excited by 
them to a devout ardor of communion with 
God, and sometimes to a glow of holy rapture 
which seems to belong to a superior nature ; — 
and then sinking into worldliness, governing 
himself in ordinary life by selfish maxims of 
temporal interest, obeying the passions and 
propensities of his animal being, and, in a 
word, living precisely as he would do, did he 
believe that there is nothing higher or better 
than this poor life ? I ask, what can be more 
sad or pitiable than such a spectacle ? Let it 
be your earnest care to guard against so de- 
plorable an inconsistency. Now, while your 
mind is warm with its early interest in divine 
things, — now, while they press upon you in 
all their freshness, — now, take heed that you 
do not concentrate that interest, and use all 
its strength, in the luxury of devout musing 



152 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 

or the excitements of study and devotion ; bm 
carry it into your whole life ; let it be always 
present to you in all you do, in all you say ; 
let it form your habitual state of feeling, your 
customary frame of mind and temper. Make 
it your constant study that nothing shall be 
inconsistent with it, but every thing partake 
of its power. This is the watchfulness in 
which you must live. This is the purpose 
for which you must exercise over yourself 
an unremitting and ever-wakeful discipline; 
seeing to it, like some magistrate over a city, 
or some commander over an army, that all 
your thoughts, dispositions, words and actions 
be subject to the law of God, and the princi- 
ples of the Christian faith. 

Thus it is plain, that your chief business, 
as well as your great trial, in forming a 
Christian character, lies in the ordinary tenor 
of life. The would is the theatre on which 
you are to prove yourself a Christian. It is 
in the occurrences of every day, in the rela- 
tions of every hour, in your affairs, in your 
family, in your conversation with those around 
you, in your treatment of them, and your 
reception of their treatment ; — it is in these 



THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 153 

that you are to cultivate and perfect the 
character of a cliild of God. It is in these 
that your passions are exercised, and your 
government of them proved; in these that 
your command over that unruly member, the 
tongue, is made known ; in these that temp- 
tations to wrong doing and evil speaking 
beset you, and that you are to apply your 
religious principle in resisting them. In 
lliet^e it is, consequently, that you discover 
whether your principle is real and genuine, or 
whether it lies only in feeling and in words. 
In the quiet of your chamber, in the devout 
solitude of your closet, when the world is shut 
out, and your solemnized spirit feels itself 
alone with God, you may be so exalted by 
communion with Heaven, and by meditation 
on heavenly truth, that all things earthly shall 
seem worthless and paltry, and every desire be 
set upon things above. IIovv often, at such 
times, does it appear as if the world had no 
longer any charms, as if its pleasures and 
pomp could never again entice or delight us! 
Our souls are above them. We have no more 
relish for them than have the angels. And 
if this were all which is required of us, if 
o 



154 THE OISCII'LINE OF LIFE 

nothing opposed to this delightful frame of 
mind were ever to cross our path, the Chris- 
tian prize would be already won. But, alas ! 
jri the closet, and in the third heaven of 
contemplation, we can live but a small portion 
of the time. We must come down from the 
mount. We must enter the crowd and 
distractions of common life. We must en- 
gage in common and secular affairs. And 
there, how much do we encounter that is 
opposed to the calm and serene spirit of our 
contemplative hours! how much to irritate 
and disturb our quiet self-possession ! how 
much to drive from our thougiits the subjects 
on which we have been musing ! how much 
to revive the relish for transient pleasures and 
worldly enjoyments, and a love for the things 
which minister gratification to pride and to 
the senses! In the midst of these things, 
dangerous, enticing, seductive, you are to 
live and walk unchanged, unseduced, unde- 
filed ; your heart true to its Master, your 
spirit firm in its allegiance to God, and your 
soul as truly devout and humble as when 
worshipping at the altar. Is this easy? I 
will not ask ; but is it not your great, your 



THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 155 

paramount, trial ? Is it not here, that the 
very battle of your soul's salvation is to be 
fought ? Is not this, as I said, the very field 
of actual and decisive war, the very seat of the 
fearful and final campaign ? And the prayers 
and studies, and observances of your more 
special devotion, are they not the buckling 
on of the armor, and the refreshing and 
preparing of the soul for its real combat ? 

You perceive, then, how the Christian life 
nmst consist in watchfulness and self-disci- 
pline; how it must be your great business 
to keep a faithful guard over yourself, that, 
both in mirid and conduct, nothing may exisi 
contrary to the spirit and precepts of Jesus 
Christ. 

First of all, this guard is to be placed upon 
tJKj Mind. It is an intellectual, internal, 
s])iritual discipline ; the oversight and man- 
agement of the thoughts and affections. 

There is a superficial religion, not unpopu- 
lar in the world, which is limited to the out- 
ward conduct and the external relations of 
life; which is made to consist exclusively in 
rectitude of behavior and uprightness of 
dealing. Into this error you are not likely to 



156 THR DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 

fall, i' you Iciirn your religion from the New 
Testament; and I sliould not have thought it 
needful to warn you against it, had it not been 
so prevalent. Nothing but its commonness 
could render it credible, that men, who pos- , J 
sess the Scriptures, and fancy they understand 1 
them, or who are simply capable of obser- 
vation on the nature of man and of happiness, 
should persuade themselves that the character i 
which God demands and will bless, is inde- ■ 
pendent of the state of the mind and the frame 
of the affections. Is it not the mind which 
constitutes the man? Is it not the mind 
which gives its moral complexion to the con- 
duct? Is it not certain, tliai the same 
conduct which we apj)laud as indicating an 
upright character, we should disapprove and 
condemn, on discovering that it proceeded 
from base and improper motives? So that 
even mm judge of character rather by the 
principle which actuates, than by the actions 
themselves. How much more completely 
woidd this be the case, if, instead of being 
obliged to infer the principle from the act, 
they could discern the principle itself as it 
lies in the mind of the agent! Who, in that 



THE DlSCll'LlNli OF LIFE. 131 

case, would ever judge a man by his actions 
alone? Who would not always decide re- 
specting his character from the principles and 
motives which guided him, — his thoughts, 
dispositions, and habitual temper? And thus 
it is that the Deity judges and decides. He 
looks not on the outward appearance, but on 
the heart. Consequently, how obvious is the 
I)osition, that, in seeking the Christian char- 
acter, the first and most diligent watch must 
be placed over the inner man ! * Keep thy 
HKAiiT vvitli all diligence; for out of it are the 
issues of life.' 

This implies several things. First, a care- 
ful guard over the Thoughts. It is in the 
heedless disregard of the thoughts that 
corruption often takes its rise. They are 
suffered to wander without restraint, to attach 
themselves without check to any objects 
which attract the senses, or are suggested in 
conversation, and to rove uncontrolled from 
one end of the world to another. How many 
hours are thus wasted in unprofitable musing, 
which leaves no impression behind 1 How 
much of life is made an absolute blank ! 
Worse still, how often do sinful fancies, sen- 
14 



158 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 

6ual images, unlawful desires, take advantag 
of this negligence to insinuate themselves into 
the mind, and make to tliemselves a hoFjie 
there, polluting the chambers of the soul, 
and rendering purity unwelcome! This is 
the beginning of evil with many a one, who, 
from this want of vigilance over the course 
of his thoughts, has surrendered himself to 
frivolity and sensuality, without being aware 
that he was in peril. Thoughtlessness, mere 
thoughtlessness, has left the door open to sin, 
and the same thoughtlessness prevents the 
detection of the intruder. 

You may fancy that your present prefer- 
ence for profitable subjects of thought, is such 
that you are in no danger from this source. 
But beware of trusting to any present dispo- 
sition. If you become confident, you will 
fall; and the rather, because the beginning 
of this peril is so subtle and sly. Believe that 
the danger is real and imminent, or it ia 
scarcely possible that you should not sulTtr 
from it. You may not, indeed, fall a victim to 
irregular desires and hurtful immoralities; 
but the habit of unwatched thought will 
weaken your control over your mind, will 



THE DIPCITLINK OF LIFE. 159 

diminish your power of self-government, and 
rob you of that vigorous sell-possession, alive 
to every occasion, and prompt at every call, 
which forms the decision of character that 
ought to belong to him who professes to 
follow the energetic principles of Christian 
morality. So that, if you would be saved from 
an unbecoming weakness of mind, and its 
possible, not to say probable, consequences, 
ungoverned desires and passions, keep a 
guard upon your thoughts. Let your morn- 
ing and evening prayer be, that you may live 
thoufrhtfuliy. And when, in the business of 
the day, your hands are occupied, but your 
mind free to think, keep yourself attentive 
to your thoughts. Inquire frequently how 
they are engaged. Direct them to useful and 
innocent subjects. Think over the books 
you have been reading ; rehearse to yourself 
the knowledge you have gained; call up the 
sermons you have heard ; repeat the passages 
of scripture you know. By methods like 
these, take care that even your empty hours 
minister to your improvement. Paley has 
truly observed, that every man has some 
<avorite subject, to which his mind spontane 



lt)0 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 

oiisly turns at overy interval of leisure; and 
that with tiie devout man the subject is God. 
Hence the watching over your thought? 
furnishes you with a ready test of your reli- 
gious condition; it exposes to you the first 
and faintest symptoms of religious decline, 
and enables you to apply an immediate 
remedy. 

If the thoughts, which may be expressed in 
words, are to be thus guarded, the Temper 
and Feelings, which are often so indefinable 
in language, require a no less anxious guar- 
dianship. In the perplexities and trials of 
daily life, in the conflict with the various tem- 
pers and frequently perverse dispositions of 
those around us, in the little crosses, the petty 
disappointments, the trifling ills which are our 
perpetual lot, we are exposed to lose that calm 
equanimity of mind which the Christian 
shoula habitually possess. We are liable to 
be ruflled and irritated, and to feel and display 
another spirit than that gentleness which 
' bears all things and is not easily provoked.' 
The selfishness of some, the obstinacy of oth- 
er*^ tfic pride of our neighbor, the heedlessness 
of our children, and the unfaithfulness of our 



THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. IG) 

dependents, tire our patience, and disturb oui 
self-possession ; while bodily infirmity and dis- 
ordered nerves magnify insignificant inconve- 
niences into serious evils, and irritate to peev- 
ishness and discontent the temper which duty 
calls to cheerfulness and submission. Some 
are blessed with a native quietness of temper- 
ament which hardly feels these hourly vexa- 
tions. But of some they form the great trial, 
and peculiar cross; they can bear any thing 
better. And to all persons they constitute an 
exposure full of hazard, and demanding cau- 
tious vigilance. The very spirit and essen- 
tial traits of the Christian character require 
watchfulness against them, and imply conquest 
over them. The humility, meekness, forbear- 
ance, gentleness, and love of peace ; the long- 
suffering, the patience, the serenity, which 
form so lovely a combination, which portray a 
character that no one can fail to admire and 
love ; — these are to be maintained only by 
much and persevering watchfulness. 

Without this, the most equable disposition 

by nature may become irritable and unhappy. 

With it, under the authority and guidance of 

Christian faith, the most unfortunate natural 

14* F 



102 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 

temper is subdued to the gentleness of the 
lamb. Without it, the internal condition of 
man is restless, rebellious, full of wretched- 
ness, having no peace in itself, and enjoying 
nothing around. With it, the aspect of the 
world becomes changed ; every thing is bear- 
able, if not pleasant; the sweet light which 
beams within, shines on all without, making 
pleasant the aspect of all men, and smoothing 
the roughnesses of all affairs. Who does not 
know how much the events of life take their 
hue from the state of the disposition 1 To the 
proud, suspicious, and jealous, every man 
seems an intruder, every gesture an insult, 
and every event a cause of vexation and wrath. 
To the self-governed and amiable, every thing 
is tolerable, and he feels nothing of the incon- 
veniences which make the misery of the oth- 
er. One's happiness, therefore, as well as 
duty, requires this control of the disposition. 
And when the Saviour pronounced his bene- 
diction on the pure, peaceful, humble-minded, 
and meek, he taught, not only the great re- 
quisite of his spiritual kingdom, but the great 
secret of human felicity. 

When the frame of your mind is thus a con- 



THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 163 

stant care, you will find little difficulty in the 
control of the Appetites. These things are 
connected together ; and, an ascendency over 
the former being secured, the subjection of 
the latter easily follows. But take good heed 
that it does follow. Do not be thoughtless 
about it, because you fancy that it will of 
course accompany a regulated mind. Other- 
wise it is here that corruption may begin. 
The enemy will enter at any place, however 
improbable, wliich shall be left unguarded. 
And it only needs that the body become dis- 
ordered throuorh the immoderate indulijence 
of the appetites, to raise a rebellion through- 
out the whole moral system ; or, to speak 
more plainly, this indulgence will create 
cloudiness of mind, indisposition to thought, 
activity, and duty, irritability of temper, slug- 
gishness of devotional feeling, and at length a 
general spiritual lethargy. There can be little 
doubt, that much of our dullness of apprehen- 
sion and deadness of feeling on spiritual topics, 
as well as our strange sensibility to minor tri- 
als, is owing to a derangement of the animal 
economy, which is again owing to want oi* 
moderation in gratifying our animal desires. 



iC4 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 

Hence there was some reason in the absti* 
nence and fastings of religious men in ancient 
times; and if we valued sufficiently, wuac they 
perhaps valued superstitiously, — serenity and 
brightness of mind, an equal temper, and a 
perj)etual aptitude for spiritual contemplation, — 
we should imitate them more, if not in their 
fistings, yet certainly in their temperance. 
At any rate, ' let your moderation be known 
unto all men.' For temperance is not only 
the observance of an express* injunction, but is 
essential to that quietness and self-control 
which should mark the religious character. 

The next exercise of self-discipline will be 
in Conversation. Conversation, while it is a 
chief source of improvement and pleasure, is 
also a scene of peculiar trial, and the occasion 
of much sin. One might suppose that few 
persons ever dream thai they are accountable 
for what passes in conversation, although 
there is no point of ordinary life which Jesus 
and the Apostles have more frequently and 
sternly put under the control of religious prin- 
ciple. Their language is strikingly urgent on 
this head ; and yet, so li^le scrupulousness is 
there among men, even religious men, that it 



THE DISCiri.INE OF LIFE IbO 

w juld seem as if they felt ashamed to be care- 
ful in their talk. A thoroughly well-governed 
speech is so rare, that we still say, in the words 
of James, * If any man offend not in word, the 
same is ^perfect man.' 

Do not allow yourself to be off your guard 
in this respect. Make it a part of your busi- 
ness, by a cautious prudence, to have your 
speech consistent with the rest of your charac- 
ter. Do not flatter yourself that your thoughts 
are under due control, your desires properly 
regulated, or your dispositions subject as they 
should be to Christian principle, if your inter- 
course with others consists mainly of frivolous 
gossip, impertinent anecdotes, speculations on 
the character and affairs of your neighbors, 
the repetition of former conversations, or a 
discussion of the current petty scandal of so- 
ciety; much less, if you allow yourself in 
careless exaggeration on all these points, and 
that grievous inattention to exact truth which 
is apt to attend the statements of those whose 
conversation is made up of these materials. 
Give no countenance to this lamentable depar- 
ture from charity and veracity, which it is 
mortifying to observe conunonly marks the 



I GO THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 

every-day gossip of the world. Let precision 
in every statement distinguish what you say, 
remembering that a little lie, or a little unchar 
itableness, is no better than a little theft. Be 
slow to speak those reports to another's disad- 
vantage, which find so ready a circulation and 
are so eagerly believed, though every day's ex- 
perience shows us that a large proportion of 
them are unfounded and false. In a word, 
be convinced that levity, uncharitableness, and 
falsehood, are as truly immoral and irreligious 
in the common intercourse of life, as on its 
more solemn occasions ; that idle and injuri- 
ous words make a part of man's responsible 
character, as really as blasphemy and idolatry ; 
and that ' if any man seem to be religious, 
and bridle not his tongue, that man's religion 
is vain.' 

' A word spoken in season, how good it is !' 
Why should you not do all in your power to 
elevate the tone of conversation, and render 
the intercourse of man with man more ra- 
tional and profitable ? Let your example of 
cheerful, innocent, blameless words, in which 
neither folly nor austerity shall find place, ex- 
hibit the uprightness and puritv of a mind 



THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 167 

controlled by habitual principle, and be a 
recommendation of the religion you profess. 
Let the authority of that faith to which you 
subject every other department of your charac- 
ter, be extended to those moments, not the 
least important, in which you exercise the pe- 
culiar capacity of a rational being in the 
interchange of thought. Never let it be said 
of your tongue, which Watts has truly called 
* the glory of our frame,' that with it you bless 
God, and at the same time make its habitual 
carelessness a curse to men, who are formed 
in the similitude of God. 

The influence of the principle which rules 
within, should thus be seen in all your deport- 
ment and intercourse, on every occasion and 
in every relation. Your outward life should 
be but the manifestation and expression of the 
temper which prevails within, the acting-out 
of the sentiments which abide there; so that 
all who see you may understand, without your 
saying it in words, how supreme with you is 
the authority of conscience, how reverent your 
attachment to truth, how sacred your adher- 
ence to duty; how full of good-will to men, 
and how devoutly submissive to God, the 



108 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 

habitual tenor of your mind. Your spontane- 
ous, unconstrained action, flowing without effort 
from your feelings, amid tlie events of every 
day, should be the unavoidable expression ol 
a spirit imbued with high and heavenward 
desires ; so that, as in the case of the Aix)stles, 
those who saw them * took knowledge of them 
that they had been with Jesus,' it may in like 
manner be obvious that you have learned of 
that holy Teacher. And this may be without 
any obtrusive display on your part, without 
asking for observation, without either saying 
or hinting, * Come, see my zeal for the Lord.' 
The reign of a good principle in the soul car- 
ries its own evidence in the life, just as that of 
a good government is visible on the face of 
society. A man of a disinterested and pious 
mind bears the signature of it in his whole 
deportment. His Lord's mark is on his ff)re- 
head. We may say of his inward principle, 
which an Apostle has called * Christ formed 
within us,' as was said of Christ himself dur* 
ing his beneficent ministry ; — It * cannot be 
hid.' There is an atmosphere of excellence 
about such a man, which gives savor of his 
goodness to all who approach, and through 



THE DISCIPLINE OP LIFE. 109 

nrhich the internal light of his soul beams out 
upon all observers. Consequently, if you al- 
low yourself in a deportment inconsistent with 
Christian uprightness, propriety, and charity, 
you are guilty of bringing contradiction and 
disgrace on the principles which you profess ; 
you expose yourself to the charge of hypocrit- 
ically maintaining truths to which you do not 
conform yourself You dishonor your religion 
by causing it to appear unequal to that domin- 
ion over the human character which it claims 
to exert. All men know that, if ' the salvation 
reigned within,' it vvould regulate the move- 
ments of the life as surely as the internal mo- 
tions of the watch are indicated on its face; 
if the hands point wrong, they know, without 
looking further, that there is disorder within. 
That disorder they will attribute either to the 
incapacity of the principle, or to your unfaithful- 
ness in applying it. But, what is of far great- 
er importance, the holy and unerring judg- 
ment of God will ascribe it to the single cause 
of your own unfaithfulness; and for all your 
wanderings from Christian constancy, and all 
the consequent dishonor to the Christian 
1.5 



170 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 

name, you must bear the shame and reproach 
in the final day of account. 

You perceive how urgent is the call for per- 
petual watchfulness and rigid self-discipline. 
It is not easy, with much intentional guard 
over yourself, to keep the spirit habitually 
right in this giddy and tempting world ; and it 
is equally difiicult to maintain a perfect coinci- 
dence between the principle within and the 
deportment of daily life. Oftentimes, in the 
emergencies and hurry of business, pleasure, 
and society, where many things concur to 
drown the voice of the spirit within, we find 
the lower propensities of our nature gaining an 
ascendency, and the law in our members ris- 
ing in rebellion against the law in our mind. 
* The things that we would, we do not, and 
the things that we would not, those we do ;' 
and sense and passion triumph for the moment 
over reason and faith. 'The flesh lusteth 
against the spirit, and the spirit against the 
Hush, and these are contrary the one to the 
other.' And how shall we gain the victory in 
this perpetual contest? 'Through our Lord 
Jesus Christ,' says the Apostle; and the 



THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 171 

means thereto are found in his injunction, 
* Watch and pray, that ye enter not into 
temptation.' Vigilance over every hour and 
in every engagement, carrying into them the 
shield of faith and the whole armor of God ; 
and prayer, without ceasing, that your soul may 
be strong to wield them ; — these will secure to 
you the victory. Sometimes you will find 
yourself in perplexities and straits, sometimes 
fidtering and irresolute ; but never forsaken 
or cast down, never exposed to temptation 
which you are unable to bear, or from which 
there is no way of escape. You may ' do all 
things through Christ who strengtheneth you.' 

I have thus spoken of that religious disci- 
pline of daily life, in which the Christian 
character is formed and tried. It will be suf- 
ficient to add, in conclusion, that your great 
concern must be with two things, — your prin- 
ciples and your habits. 

First, you must constantly have an eye to 
your Principles. Take care that they be kept 
pure, and that you abide by them. They 
have been well compared to the compass of 
the ship, on which if the helmsman keeps a 
faithful eye, and resolutely steers by it in 



172 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 

spite of the opposition of winds and wares, he 
will find the way to his port ; but by heedless 
inattention to it, he is sure to go astray, and be 
blown whither he would not. Be assured that 
it is only by adherence to principle, in reso- 
lute defiance of inclination, opposition, present 
interest, and worldly solicitation, that you 
can ensure the steady progress of your soul, 
and its final arrival in heaven. Neglect it, 
and you are at the mercy of circumstances, 
tossed helpless on the waters of chance, expos- 
ed to the buffetings of temptation without the 
power of resistance, and a sure prey of the 
destroyer. You must find your safety in the 
strength of your principle ; and that strength 
lies in the original power of conscience, and 
the added authority of the divine word. Here- 
in is the * still small voice' of Heaven ; and he 
that will * cover his face' from the world, and 
obediently listen to it, may become morally 
omnipotent. 

Secondly, have an eye to your Habits. 
Add to the authority of principle the vigor and 
steadfastness of confirmed habit, and your re- 
ligious character becomes almost impregnable 
lo assault. It is in no danger of overthrow, 



THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 173 

except from the most cunning assailants in a 
season of your most culpable negligence. 
What wisdom and kindness has the Creator 
displayed in our constitution, that we are able 
to rear around our virtue the strong bulwark 
of habit ! It is a defence of the weakest 
spirit against the strongest trial. Through 
the power of habits early formed, how many 
have stood in exposed places, and been unaf- 
fected by solicitations to sin, beneath which 
others have fallen, who trusted to their good 
purposes, but who had never confirmed and in- 
vigorated them in action ! How often, for ex- 
ample, has the young man from a retired 
situation, — educated in the bosom of a vir- 
tuous family, and under the eye of a watchful 
father, thence sent forth to the new scenes of 
a city life, under the protection of good princi- 
ples and a sincere purpose to do well, — been 
found weak and wanting in the exposure ; and 
been carried away headlong by the tide of 
temptation, because his early habits were suit- 
ed only for seclusion, and his principles were 
guarded by none which could secure them 
against the novel assaults that were made upon 
them ! While, on the other hand, young men 



174 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 

brought up in the midst of tliese solicitations 
10 sin, with far less inculcation of principle, are 
oftentimes enables, through the mere strength 
which habit imparts, to resist them all, and 
live in the midst of them as if they were not. 

It cannot be necessary to multiply exam 
pies. You well know what a slave man is to 
his habitual indulgences, and how the custom- 
ary routine of his life and methods of employ- 
ment tyrannize over him, and how frequently 
one strives in vain to free himself from their 
dominion. The old proverb is every day 
verified before you, of the skin of the Ethio- 
pian and the spots of the leopard. But, if 
thus powerful for evil, habit is no less powerful 
for good. If in some cases it be stronger than 
principle, and defy all the expostulations of 
religion, even when the miserable man is con- 
vinced that his safety lies in breaking from it; 
then, when enlisted as the ally of principle^ 
when coupled with faith, and made the fellow- 
worker of piety, how unspeakable may be its 
aid toward the security and permanence of 
firtue ! 

Take heed therefore to your habits. Allow 
yourself to form none but such as are 



THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 175 

mnocent, and such as may help your efTorts 
to do well. In he arrangement of your 
business, in the nethods of your household 
and family, in the disposal of your time, in 
the choice, seasons, and mode of your recrea- 
tion, in your love of company, and your se- 
lection of books, — in these preserve a simple 
and blameless taste. Do not allow any of 
them to be such as shall offer an obstacle to 
serious thought, and induce a state of feeling 
indisposed to religious exercises. Especially 
do not allow them so to enter the frame and 
texture of your life, that every effort of virtue 
and devotion shall be a pitched battle with 
some cherished inclination, or sturdy habit 
This is to increase most unwisely and need- 
lessly the trials and perils of a religious 
course. It is to raise up for yourself obstacles 
and difficulties beyond those which properly 
belong to your situation. Rather, therefore, 
arrange every thing in your customary pur- 
suits and indulgences to favor the grand end 
of your being ; so that every act of piety and 
faith shall be coincident with it ; so that little 
or no effort shall be required to maintain the 
iteady order of daily duty ; and, instead of an 



176 



THB DISCIPLINE OP LIFB. 



opposition, a struggle, a contest, whenever 
principle asserts its claims, you shall find the 
ready consent and hearty cooperation of all the 
habitual preferences, tastes, and occupations, 
of your life He in whom this is so, is the 
happy man. He is the consistent man. He 
is the man to be congratulated, to be ad- 
mired, to be imitated. Universal harmony 
reigns within him ; no oppositions, no jarring 
contentions, mar his peace. With him, the 
flesh and the spirit are no longer contrary the 
one to the other. His duty and his inclina- 
tion are one. There is no dispute between 
what he ought to do, and what he wishes to 
do. But, with one consenting voice, heart 
and life move on harmoniously, accustomed to 
and loving the same things. To him the 
yoke is indeed easy, and the burden light. 
To him heaven is already begun ; and when 
at last he shall be welcomed to the joy of hia 
I^rd, it will be to a joy which his regulated 
spirit has already tasted in the labors and 
pleasures of obedience below. 



PROGRESS 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



At the period when Mr. Ware's health 
began irrecoverably to fail, and just before 
he was obliged to give up all occupation, he 
was devoting his hours of leisure to the prep- 
aration of a sequel to his work on the For- 
mation of the Christian Character, which he 
designed to entitle " Progress of the Chris- 
ian Life." Several chapters only were fin- 
ished. They are too valuable to be lost, 
and are here published in the hope that they 
may be useful. The reader will form by 
them an idea of what the sequel would have 
been if its author had lived to finish it. 

C. R. 



1* 



i 



AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 



The following pages are designed as a 
sequel to the little work on the Formation 
of the Christian Character, and are supposed 
to be addressed to the same persons. When 
one has adopted the Christian faith as his 
rule of life, and begun in earnest his religious 
existence, it is still but the commencement 
of a career in which an indefinite progress is 
to be made, and which is to continue forever. 
As long as man is imperfect, there is room 
for improvement. As long as he is in the 
flesh, there is occasion for watchfulness 
and struggling against temptation. There 
is need that his principles become more and 
more fixed, his conscience more and more 



8 author's pkeface. 

enlightened and controlling, his passions 
more thoroughly obedient to the law of 
righteousness, and his whole temper and 
demeanor more steadfastly conformed to 
the example of Christ. In a word, he is to 
grow in grace. Advancement is his duty, 
perfection his aim. 

It is with regard to this duty of religious 
progress that I propose to offer a few hints. 
There are some errors respecting it prev- 
alent among believers, which I would first 
attempt to rectify ; and then I would ex- 
plain its true nature and character, remove 
discouragements, and show the means and 
steps by which it should proceed, and how 
actual success is to be ascertained. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

Errors respecting the duty of religious pro- 
gress noticed and corrected — especially the 
error that the Christian life, having been 
begun, is accomplished 11 

CHAPTER II. 
Errors noticed and corrected — especially the 
error that the Christian life is not to be 
taken up expressly — is not to have a 
marked commencement 27 

CHAPTER III. 

Errors noticed and corrected — especially the 
error of those who fancy that the Christian 
life may be sustained without the use of 
means 39 

CHAPTER IV. 

The young Christian put on his guard against 
the hinderanceto progress which arises from 
disappointment respecting the enjoyment 
of a religious life 52 



10 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER V. 

PAGE 

Considerations designed to assist the Christian 
in the successful use of the means and 
methods of religious progress 65 

CHAPTER VI. 
Maxims on which the expectation of religious 
progress is to be built 78 



N. B. The following titles of additional chapters or 
sections are given in Mr. Ware's manuscript : — 

Hinderances. Hoio Progress manifests itself, and is 
to be ascertained. Progress in Knowledge, in Self-gov- 
ernment, in Spirituality of Temper, in Conscientiousness, 
in Disinterestedness, in Power to'resist Temptation. In 
what sense Perfection is to he expected, <^c. ^c. 



PROGRESS 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 



CHAPTER I. 



ERRORS RESPECTING THE DUTY OF RELIGIOUS 
PROGRESS NOTICED AND CORRECTED — ES- 
PECIALLY THE ERROR THAT THE CHRIS- 
TIAN LIFE, HAVING BEEN BEGUN, IS AC- 
COMPLISHED. 

Nothing can be plainer than that the 
Christian character is a thing to be acquired 
and to be improved ; yet it is evident that 
many do not so regard it. If we may judge 
from their conduct, the number is not small 
of those who esteem it something which 
belongs to them just as the body does, and 
to be kept alive and in health just like that, 



12 PROGRESS OF THE 

by living along from day to day, as the cir- 
cumstances of each day may suggest, but 
not to be the subject of any special regard. 
But as to being every day better than the 
day before, as to being more humble and 
charitable this year than they were last, it 
does not enter their mind, it makes no part 
of their plan. They have been Christians, 
they say, as long as they can remember ; they 
always believed in the gospel, and meant to 
do their duty. But they do not know more 
about the history and foundation, the nature 
and purposes, of their religion, nor are they 
in any respect more devoted. Indeed, when 
one thinks seriously on the subject, it is a 
matter of amazement to him to observe how 
stationary good men are, and how quietly 
they content themselves with being so. 

It is not so in other matters. We look 
around us on the community, and we see it 
in a state of commotion and advancement. 
Its prosperity is a wonder to us, and that 
prosperity is progress. Every one is pushing 
forward. Every one is eager and panting for 
success. Our young men rise step by step ; 
they are discontented if they find it other- 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 13 

wise. Those who began life with nothing 
are seen in a few years comfortably living 
with a family around them, — then entering 
a larger dwelling, supporting a more exten- 
sive establishment, and in various expenses 
evincing the advancement they have made. 
This is common. But meantime — even if 
they account themselves Christians, and re- 
member that they have an eternity as well 
as a family to provide for — they have not 
dreamed of exhibiting any proportionate ad- 
vancement of character; it has not occurred 
to them that their piety should have grown 
with their estate ; that their charities should 
have been as much greater than formerly as 
their income has become larger ; that, as 
they have been rising in the world, they 
should have risen also toward heaven. In 
the eye of the world, they are better dressed 
and better lodged, and they move in a more 
fashionable and intellectual circle ; but in 
the eye of God, in their preparation for 
heaven, they are just where they were. They 
have contrived to give the soul just food 
enough to keep it of the same stature — not 
considering that it was to grow as well as the 
2 



14 PEOGEESS OF THE 

body — not considering, indeed, that this 
eager attention to worldly good, and rapid 
growth in earthly prosperity, have very prob- 
ably stunted the growth of their characters. 

How salutary might it prove to every one 
whom Providence has blessed with an in- 
crease of goods, if, at every enlargement of 
his style of living, he should devote one day 
to searching into his spiritual progress, and 
resolve never to erect a new house, or intro- 
duce a higher indulgence to his domestic 
economy, until he could honestly say, that 
he was as much improved in character as in 
fortune ! 

But, alas ! this is far from being the way of 
the world. They are satisfied to seem to 
themselves no worse than they were ; — if 
they deeply examined themselves, they might 
discover that they are, in fact, much worse. 

Amid this universal and earnest struggle 
for the outside life, the inner life is neglected ; 
and very good men are entirely content to be 
no better, who could ill brook to be no 
richer. 

Certainly this indicates a false idea of the 
true object of life, and a very imperfect ac- 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 15 

quaintance with that religion which they pro- 
fess to have taken for their guide. I do not 
treat the question in its reference to mere 
men of the world. On their principles they 
are right. With a worldly man, character is 
of very little consequence. If he be not dis- 
honest, so as to be in danger of the law, — 
if he keep a decent reputation for fairness 
and tlie social virtues, so as not to hinder his 
success by becoming obnoxious to others, — 
what more can he need ? His business is to 
make his fortune and enjoy himself more and 
more every year; and this he can do perfectly 
well without being a better man. This, 
therefore, need be no part of his concern. 
But with those who profess to look beyond 
the world, to whom the favor of God is of 
some consequence, as well as the opinion of 
men, and who soberly believe that virtue is 
better than wealth, — with such as I am now 
addressing, — it should be the chief concern. 
Is it possible that they can have adopted 
Christ as their master, and taken his religion 
as the great guide and blessing of their souls, 
knowing themselves to be immortal, and yet 
be satisfied to see tlieir earthly condition 



16 PROGRESS OF THE 

prosperous while there are no signs of their 
souls' prosperity ? Surely the last must be 
their great anxiety and care, or they are 
strangely false to their principles. There is 
no incompatibility between the two ; both 
may advance together; but to strive only 
for the earthly is treachery to their princi- 
ples. Alas ! then, how many such traitors 
are there ! 

But there is another class. All do not, 
even in this prosperous community, succeed 
in their anxious efforts to advance themselves 
in the world. Many make no progress. 
They gain no wealth, they never enlarge their 
means of living and enjoyment, they live on 
as they began. Perhaps they are content 
with their lot. Many, it is well known, are 
perfectly so. They acquiesce in the allot- 
ment of Providence, and quietly sit down 
where God has appointed them. But many 
more have tried to rise, and in vain. Are 
they satisfied then ? Do they content them- 
selves? Do they make no effort further? 
Do they feel no regret, mortification, and 
longing? Surely not so. Waking and dream- 
ing, they are haunted by the restless desire 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 17 

and the unquenched hope of reinstating their 
fortunes. And yet, though they know that 
their souls are equally far from prosperity, 
and that they have made no improvement in 
religious knowledge and virtue, it does not 
make them uneasy ; they are perfectly will- 
ing it should be so. They are quite content 
to find themselves no better Christians; but 
they cannot bear to find themselves no more 
wealthy. 

It was a beautiful wish of the disciple 
whom Jesus loved, when writing to a dear 
friend, " that he might be in health and pros- 
per even as his soul prospered.'^'' I fear it 
would be thought a strange wish now, even 
amongst those who esteem themselves very 
good disciples. They would not under- 
stand how the prosperity of the soul is the 
first thing. Many, it is to be feared, do not 
even place it second. Business, money-get- 
ting, is first ; their family, second ; religion 
is postponed to the third place, at least, and 
very little honored in that, if we may judge 
by its advancement in comparison with that 
of the other two. 

There are undoubtedly other classes to be 
2* 



18 PROGRESS OF THE 

found, besides those whom I have now 
named. They need not be described. They 
leave but a small number to be found scat- 
tered among us, here and there, as we look 
around, whose business, aim, object, is the 
growth of their character, who live for the 
sake of the soul, and who evidently, mark- 
edly, become better men as they advance 
in life. We would not be cynical in our 
estimate, but none can look around on soci- 
ety, Christian society, — recollecting with 
what capacities for goodness men have been 
endowed, and what inducements to progress 
toward perfection are always before them, 
— without a feeling of amazement, mortifi- 
cation, and alarm, at observing how few are 
growing, or striving to grow, in the virtues 
of the Christian life. So rare are such in- 
stances, that they are looked on, and spoken 
of, as bright exceptions ; and a measure of 
goodness which ought to be that of every 
man, nay, which all acknowledge to be still 
far short of what the Christian should be, is 
described, praised, and held forth to imita- 
tion as something extraordinary — as, in- 
deed, beyond what men in general are ex- 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 19 

pected to attain. " We are not to expect to 
find others as good as he." 

This defective tone and condition of society- 
is unquestionably a great hinderanceto those 
who are young in religion. It presents to 
them, on their first entrance to a new princi- 
ple, instead of examples that stimulate to 
effort and excellence, and raise still higher 
their impressions of the purity and spiritual- 
ity of Christian attainment, specimens of lag- 
ging, sluggish, moderate virtue, which coun- 
tenance thein in the most indolent exertions 
for improvement. As they look forward with 
the glowing mind of youth and the first beat- 
ings of awakened flxith, the Christian life 
looks to them not only all light and glorious, 
but of a strict and holy austerity, and a scru- 
pulous purity which has no part or lot with 
the ordinaiy follies of humanity — elevated 
above the world by a taste which has no 
pleasure in its perishing pursuits, and a habit 
of exalted contemplation which dwells amid 
things unseen and eternal. They begin the 
race, therefore, with feelings of high aspira- 
tion. They take their place among the dis- 
ciples with a romantic and earnest expecta- 



20 



PROGRESS OF THE 



tion of finding in those privileged persons 
something, they know not what, of a celes- 
tial temper and beauty: they expect to be 
incited, cheered, instructed, by the very con- 
tact, and to find in the atmosphere in which 
they dwell the radiance and perfume of 
heaven. And if they could find it so, they 
would keep alive their own ardor, they would 
persevere to realize their own exalted con- 
ceptions. But they find it otherwise. The 
image which they had conceived in their own 
minds of what the Christian man ought to be 

— an image whose features were all drawn 
from the life and teaching of the Great Master 

— is not at all realized in the world. Nobody 
acts up to it. Nobody seems to have it in 
mind. The common standard is wholly be- 
low it; and these young beginners find them- 
selves alone, with an idea and purpose of a 
perfection which the more experienced smile 
upon as the extravagant dream of youth, 
which a few more days will show them to be 
impracticable in such a world as this. Thus 
the actual state of religious feeling chills the 
early blossoms of their religious characters ; 
they find that much less than they had 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 21 

imagined is thought sufficient by the older 
and wiser discij)les, who must know much 
better than themselves; that it is by no 
means requisite to follow Christ so nearly, or 
worship God so exclusively, as they had fan- 
cied ; they discover that, in fact, they have 
made as great attainments already as the 
world would bear ; to proceed further would 
be only to become singular : so they change 
their purpose, and remain where they are ; 
unwilling to be better than others ; satisfied 
with a measure which seems to satisfy others, 
and glad to learn that the great work they 
had undertaken is so early completed. And 
thus each generation does its utmost to re- 
press the aspiration of the next, and to keep 
down the standard of virtuous attainment. 
So powerful is the example of the society 
around us, and such the influence of prevail- 
ing notions to modify our own,that few have 
courage or perseverance to follow the inward 
suggestion which urges them to rise higher. 
So that a distinguished minister gave it as 
his earnest advice to a young friend, not to 
allow himself to be ordained as pastor of any 
church in which the standard of life was not 



22 PROGRESS OF THE 

very strict and high ; because, he urged, 
all experience shows how almost impossible 
it is for a young minister to escape con- 
forming himself to the sentiment around 
him, and being shaped more or less by the 
popular mould. If it is thus to be appre- 
hended in the case of one all whose tempO' 
ral interests urge him, no less than his e^erria/, 
to rise to the mark, how much more must it 
be so with ordinary men, who are less pro- 
tected by the circumstances of their posi- 
tion, and the daily duties of their calling ! 

It is, therefore, evidently one of the first 
duties of the young Christian to settle it in 
his mind that he has only commenced a 
work which is to be going on as long as 
he shall exist. Everything in the example 
and experience of others around him proves 
how necessary this is, for it proves how 
easily he may be made to forget it. 

There are also some mistaken notions re- 
specting religion itself which may lead to the 
same error; the idea, namely, which so readily 
finds a welcome in the mind which is glow- 
ing with the first happiness of its early faith, 
that its glow cannot fade away ; that things 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 23 

will always appear to the soul just as they do 
at that divine moment ; that the new taste 
is fixed, and cannot be changed ; that it will 
take care of itself. Hazardous and unfounded 
as such a feeling is, it is yet very natural. It 
belongs to all strong emotion to have faith in 
its own perpetuity. The affections always 
are confident that they never shall change ; 
and we always fancy that the grief, or love, 
or indignation, which fills our bosoms now, 
can never fade from them. When, therefore, 
we are awake to the vivid consciousness of 
our spiritual relations, and are overwhelmed 
with those various and mingling emotions 
that take possession of the excited spirit, and 
blend there in all that is awful, tender, joyous, 
and serene — when we are confident that 
now, at last, we are tasting the highest grati- 
fication of w^hich human nature is capable, 
that now, at last, we are in the state in which 
man ought to be, — a state in w^hich things 
appear as they are, in their true relations 
and proportions, and the common things 
of the world take rank among the insignifi- 
cant and uninteresting, — we cannot doubt 
that these, the truest, will be the lasting feel- 
ings; we cannot conceive it possible that 



24 



PROGRESS OF THE 



anything on earth should ever have charm 
enough to entice from this state ; that any of 
the things which we now know to be inferior 
should ever be able to withdraw us from 
what we now know to be supreme. This is 
the hearty, honest, deeply-seated conviction 
within us. This is the conviction which occa- 
sions the well-known confidence and pre- 
sumption of young converts, which prompts 
to their proverbial forwardness — a confi- 
dence and forwardness often attributed to 
unworthy motives, and spoken of to their 
discredit. It may not be creditable to them ; 
yet it argues nothing worse, perhaps, than 
self-ignorance. They do not know the evan- 
escent character of the feelings, the deceit- 
fulness of the heart; therefore they give way 
to it; they trust themselves; they spread all 
their sails to the wind, as if it would never 
change; they fancy themselves established, 
and act warmly and boldly, as if established. 
But this glow is necessarily transient, like all 
vehement feeling ; and when it has passed 
away, they have no abiding principle of life 
to take its place and keep the work in pro- 
gress. Other feelings rise up in the midst 
of the world; the brightness of the spiritual 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 25 

light fades from before the eye of the soul, 
and there is no advancement to a higher 
perfection. 

Let no one, therefore, from the strength 
and security of his first affections, allow him- 
self to rest, as if the work were done. It is 
but begun. Let him settle within himself, 
deeply and sternly, the persuasion that it is 
to be going on while life lasts. For want of 
this it is that the love of so many has waxed 
cold, and that so many who put their hand 
to the plough have turned back. If you 
would persevere, you must understand, at 
the outset, the necessity of perseverance. 
You must start with the conviction that 
you begin a perpetual progress. 

For which reason, instead of looking at 
the state of society, instead of conforming 
yourself to the model of those with whom 
you live, study into the nature and capacity 
of your soul, your destiny, and your respon- 
sibility ; imbue your mind with the spirit of 
your immortal faith, and the influence of 
the character of your holy Master ; and from 
the promptings of a soul thus filled and 

kindled, act out Christianity for yourself; 

3 



2fi PEOGRESS OF THE 

not as others do, nor as others expect you 
to do, but as this state of mind impels you. 
There is no true and safe course but to be 
obedient to these suggestions of a mind 
which has faithfully studied for itself into the 
doctrine and temper of the divine life. These 
suggestions are to it as the instinct of its im- 
mortal nature — as unerring, as safe, as the 
instincts of the lower orders of beings. Man's 
bodily instincts are as nothing, for his bodily 
interests are of little moment, and in pursu- 
ing them he has no need of an infallible guide. 
But the interests of his undying soul are of 
infinite consequence: in his search for them 
he needs an infallible guide ; and that guide 
he has in the promptings of his own mind, 
whenever he has cultivated it with the deep 
study of truth and faith, and steeped it by 
faithful contemplation in the secrets of divine 
love and infinite purity, and brought it into 
intimate communion with the Holy Spirit of 
God. If you have truly acquainted yourself 
with your Master and his revelation, — if you 
have entered into their spirit with your whole 
soul, — then act yourself, freely, boldly, and 
you will not know what it is to stop short. 
This very action will be progress. 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 27 



CHAPTER II. 

ERRORS NOTICED AND CORRECTED — ESPE- 
CIALLY THE ERROR THAT THE CHRISTIAN 
LIFE IS NOT TO BE TAKEN UP EXPRESSLY 
— IS NOT TO HAVE A MARKED COM- 
MENCEMENT. 

Besides the causes of error which are 
hinted at in the preceding chapter, there are 
Others still more worthy of consideration. 
Of these I do not know that there is any 
more common or more detrimental than that 
which is the subject of this chapter. It is 
an error which arises naturally from the cir- 
cumstances of birth and education in a Chris- 
tian land, and from the idea that under such 
circumstances the Christian character grows 
up of course, just as the social does, and per- 
haps as part of the social. It differs from 
that before mentioned in this, that, while that 
supposed the Christian character something 
to be formed by a certain process in a certain 
time, — to be done by the job and finished 



28 PROGRESS OF THE 

at once, — this supposes that it is never any- 
thing to be taken up as a distinct subject of 
attention, or to be made an express concern; 
but is to be left to take care of its<-lf , under 
those influences to which all are subjected, 
and beneath which it will grow up spontane- 
ously. This is a common error ; it infects 
the great mass of nominal Christians; it 
deceives and paralyzes even conscientious 
men, and keeps them from all progress by 
persuading them that the soul will grow of 
itself, as the body does. 

This error is so widely connected with 
misapprehensions respecting the origin and 
nature of the religious life, that it cannot be 
fully developed without a wide discussion. 
But it is of less importance thoroughly to do 
this, than to exhibit the error itself. It has 
no doubt been fostered by the manner in 
which the axiom has been received, that all 
safe progress is gradual, that whatever is 
violent and sudden is unnatural and unsafe 
— an axiom true in itself, when rightly un- 
derstood, but very falsely applied in the pres- 
ent instance. Is not the progress of the 
day gradual, it is asked, and the progress 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 29 

of the seasons imperceptible ? Does not the 
seed germinate and spring forth without our 
being able to detect or trace it ; growing 
night and day, we know not how ; first the 
blade, then the ear, and then the full corn 
in the ear ? Are not all the beneficent oper- 
ations of Providence and nature thus? — 
never rapid, vehement, instantaneous, but 
always gentle, quiet, gradual ? And, satis- 
fied with this analogy, we sit down to wait 
the advancement of our character, just as we 
wait the progress of the season ; as if we had 
only to sit and wait ; to do nothing to hasten 
or retard it; as if its course was onward as 
inevitably as fate. We do not perceive that 
we advance ; but no matter : who sees the 
sun advance on the dial-plate ? We have no 
consciousness of being in motion ; but, then, 
who sees the motion of the planets, or the 
increase of the blade of corn ? We are 
making no efforts : certainly not ; for a 
growth, to be healthy, must not be forced. 
Who would have the sickly and short-lived 
produce of the hotbed ? 

But even if we chose to follow strictly the 
analogy between the insensible universe and 
3* 



30 PROGRESS OP THE 

the living moral soul, this mode of reasoning 
is unjustifiable. If we do not see the day- 
come forward with our eyes, we perceive 
clearly, after an interval, that it has come 
forward ; and though our keenest sight does 
not detect the growth of the plant, we yet do 
see that it has grown ; and we should be ex- 
tremely unhappy if the opening dawn should 
become stationary, or the grain and fruit 
should pause in the process of ripening. But 
those of whom I speak feel no uneasiness at 
the perception that their characters have 
become stationary; they are not troubled 
when, at the greatest intervals, they still find 
that they have gained nothing. All is made 
quiet in their conscience at once by the sov- 
ereign pacifier, " O, we are not to expect 
great results : improvement must be grad- 
ual ; the more gradual, the more sure." 

Has not this lamentable result been en- 
couraged in many minds by the expression 
of a very eminent writer of great influence ? 
— " that our Christian congregations contain 
two classes : to the one must be preached 
conversion, to the other improvement " — an 
altogether just remark, which commends it- 



CmilSTTAN LIFE. ol 

self at once to every man's approbation. But 
liow easily misapplied ! Every one, on hear- 
ing it, bethinks himself, of which class is he? 
" I do not need conversion ; I have been re- 
ligiously educated ; always attended church, 
always read my Bible, always accounted my- 
self a Christian ; I only need improvement. 
My case, then, is safe ; I am on the right 
side, and of course it will be for my interest 
to improve ; in fact, considering the advan- 
tages amidst which I live, I cannot fail to 
improve : 'tis not in the nature of man to 
live under such excellent preaching and with 
such facilities for reading and worship, and 
yet not improve." Thus perfectly satisfied 
with his situation and with himself, he folds 
his arms and does nothing. The current 
floats him along, and he does not dream that 
it can be to any other than the true haven. 
If I should address such persons, I would 
ask them if they do not presume too much, 
when they thus take it for granted that they 
do not need conversion. Does it by any 
means follow, because they have been edu- 
cated under Christian institutions, that they 
have availed themselves of them, and become 



32 



PROGRESS OF TFIE 



Christians ? Because they liave been taught 
to read the Bible from their childhood, does 
it follow that the spirit of that holy book has 
formed their characters ? Certainly this can- 
not be pretended. One maybe brought up 
in the very recesses of the sanctuary, and yetr 
be as corrupt as an abandoned heathen ; may 
believe that Christianity is from heaven, as 
the Hindoo believes that his ancestral faith 
is divine, and be in heart addicted to all that 
is unchristian. History and observation tell 
of but too many who have contended for the 
faith, and yet who had checked no desire, 
controlled no passion, at its bidding. It is 
not, therefore, impossible that many decent 
men may have been brought up amongst us 
to honor Christianity, who yet are far from 
being imbued with its spirit ; that many may 
have a respect for its precepts and a jealous 
attachment to its forms, and yet be governed 
at heart by principles which it would disap- 
prove. Doubtless there are many such : they 
are willing to count themselves its friends ; 
they are proud to number themselves 
among its sui:>porters ; and, being thus Chris- 
tians by birth, claim the right to be esteemed 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 33 

Christians indeed. But in order to be Chris- 
tians indeed, they must be religious men ; 
and religious men they are not : they need 
to be converted to the influence of the faith 
they honor; from the worldliness which gov- 
erns them, to the personal experience of the 
power of the truth, which as yet is a dead 
letter to them. They think they need only 
to go on : alas ! they have not yet begun. 
They have the very first step to take. They 
have the commencement to make. 

Is it not to be feared that many are living 
and dying amongst us in this very condition ? 
Is there not a quieting and deceptive influ- 
ence in much of what passes for religious 
sentiment amongst us, producing the feeling 
that we have all begun — we have all en- 
tered the path of life — we have only to go 
on ? But it is not true that all have begun. 
How, then, can it be otherwise than danger- 
ous to entreat all to go on ? How can they 
advance if they have not commenced ? 
There can be no true and satisfactory prog- 
ress unless we are sure that we have made 
a beginning, and a right beginning. 

Now, the great error is, that men are con- 



34 PROGRESS OF TUE 

tent without any proof that they have made 
a beginning. They are willing to assume 
this important and all-essential fact as a 
thing of course. 

They were born in a Christian land ; they 
believe Christianity divine ; they are pretty 
good men ; they trust, through God's mercy, 
they shall be saved. But this does not prove 
that they have in any proper sense com- 
menced the Christian life. What are their 
ruling principles? On what rest their affec- 
tions ? Where are their motives, desires, and 
to what are their self-sacrifices offered ? Get 
an honest reply to these questions, and you 
find that the world still rules them. A faith 
in things spiritual, and a supreme surrender 
to God, they as yet know not. TheT/ have a 
heginni7ig yet to make. 

I hold it to be clear that no man can have 
done so important a thing as to resolutely 
take up the Christian law for his guide, 
without a consciousness afterwards that he 
has at some time distinctly done so. It is a 
very momentous act in a man's life when he 
assumes the obligations and reponsibilities 
of the word of Christ, and says, " For this 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 35 

Master I live and die." He must know that 
lie Las done it. It is not a thing to be taken 
for granted — to be supposed. The bear- 
ings of this faith on his daily life in a thou- 
sand ways — its applications to his temper, 
his thoughts, his will, his habits of living and 
speech — are too direct and palpable to leave 
any doubt on the subject. The struggle 
between this spirit of allegiance to conscience 
and faith, and the fleshly appetites and 
worldly principles; the trials, and falls, and 
recoveries, and shame, and joy, and all the 
various tumults of mind and heart, which 
the Christian pilgrimage implies, are all 
too distinct, too deeply felt, too strongly 
marked, to be forgotten, or to allow room 
for conjecture, supposition, or any testimony 
but the heart's own consciousness. Many, 
very many, have been so situated in early 
life, and have been so formed by influences 
exclusively of the world, that they can at 
no time come to a Christian life without 

most conspicuous and absolute change a 

disruption of former ties, a more or less 
painful abandonment of former habits, a 
strange and entire alteration of the favorite 



36 PROGRESS OF THE 

and ruling desires. Educated as most per- 
sons are, it is impossible that they should 
otherwise arrive at the Christian life ; and 
this change is an era to be remembered. 
It leaves deep marks on the history. And 
as for others, who have been favored with a 
more propitious lot, and whose minds have 
received the sanctifying influence of truth 
from the cradle, drinking in divine knowl- 
edge with their daily discipline, and imbued 
with the temper of Heaven through the 
power of the society and teaching of their 
early guides, — they, too, cannot have con- 
firmed their early impressions excepting 
through efforts and struggles; they must 
evidently know ; it cannot be left to them 
to take for granted. They may have the 
most infallible proof that they have actually 
made a beginning. 

But as for the great class of those who 
can produce neither of these proofs, how 
can they proceed ? They are grossly self- 
deceived. Their trust and hope are alto- 
gether without foundation. 

No wonder that they are content without 
progress. After assuming, without evidence, 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 3< 

that they are Christians, it is a small thing to 
add the assumption that they move while 
they stand still. 

Here, therefore, I propose to my readers, 
that they institute a solemn and thorough 
self-examination. Let each inquire and know 
whether he is one of this very extensive class, 
who thus easily imagine themselves to be 
something when they are nothing. If he has 
never yet doubted on the subject, nor rigor- 
ously inquired, he has reason for apprehen- 
sion. Let him dwell no longer in uncer- 
tainty, or content himself with conjecture. 
Let him ascertain whether he has actually 
made a religious beginning. If not, let him 
waste no time in studying how to make ad- 
vancement. Pie has an earlier and more im- 
portant work — to remove away all the heavy 
rubbish which, through his self-deception and 
long blindness, has been accumulating about 
him, and lay in earnest the foundation of a 
hearty faith, and a holy, heavenly character. 
If he is not sure that he has already begun 
the Christian life, let him begin now, to-day, 
with a prayerful determination, with a de- 
voted purpose, with a heartfelt self-consecra- 
4 



38 PROGRESS OF THE 

tion to God, and Christ, and duty. Let him 
leave this great matter no longer in suspense, 
this most momentous question no longer 
open, but let him bring his real character 
and his hidden motives into the light — the 
clear light of truth — by taking devoutly 
and resolutely the first grand step, by per- 
forming the initiatory act of intelligently, 
distinctly, and with a single heart, dedicat- 
ing himself to the service of his heavenly 
Master. 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 39 



CHAPTER III. 

ERRORS NOTICED AND CORRECTED — ESPE- 
CIALLY THE ERROR OF THOSE WHO FANCY 
THAT THE CHRISTIAN LIFE MAY BE SUS- 
TAINED WITHOUT THE USE OF MEANS. 

I HAVE endeavored to expose the mistake 
of those who dream that the religious life 
has no beginning. I now turn to those who 
fancy that it may be sustained and supported 
without the use of means. 

In stating their error thus, there is absurd- 
ity on its very face, so great that it may be 
supposed impossible for any one to maintain 
such a position. And perhaps to the full 
extent none will venture to maintain it in 
terms, though we certainly hear language 
which very nearly approaches the statement 
I have made, and daily witness conduct which 
is consistent with no other principle than 
that which such a statement involves. In 
fact, it is the tendency of the speculations 
and tlie practice of the day to make light of 



40 



PROGRESS OF THE 



forms, to undervalue modes of operation, to 
speak of times, persons, j)laces, ceremonies, 
as unessential, material, instrumental, — as 
crutches for the lame, leading-strings for the 
weak, guides for babes, — quite necessary to 
those who are so far wedded to the body that 
it clogs and impedes their minds, but wholly 
unnecessary to the soul itself; in fact, ns 
badges of an inferior condition, as marks of 
spiritual backwardness, as the remnants of 
an earthly dispensation, and relics of the 
infancy of our race, which are fast becom- 
ing unnecessary in this enlightened age, and 
which the truly enlightened had best dis- 
pense with at once. 

There is a good deal of loose thinking and 
talking of this sort. It is founded on a mis- 
apprehension of the real nature of the ad- 
vancement of man in the present world ; as 
if cultivation and religion were making an 
actual change, not in his condition and ad- 
vantages, but his very nature ; relieving him 
of his dependence on the body, the senses, 
and the material world. Whereas, evidently, 
he must retain still his connection with them, 
his relation to them, and must be affected by 



CURISTIAN LIFE. 41 

iIrmu ill his desires, appetites, habits, enjoy- 
ments, cli.iracter — must act through them 
and be acted on by them ; and so long as 
this is so, it is perfectly impossible that he 
should be able to maintain a purely spiritual 
existence, or to advance his spiritual charac- 
ter, without aid from abroad. While this 
connection with the outward world perpet- 
ually operates on him to affect his temper 
and distract his affections, it is necessary to 
counteract it by agents and contrivances 
which also operate outwardly. While, every 
day, appetite must be indulged at stated 
hours, business done, and exciting thoughts, 
interests, and passions absorb his mind, he 
must eveiy day have stated means of neu- 
tralizing their engrossing and infecting 
power, or they will obtain the mastery. 

How it may be when the soul shall be sep- 
arated from its present connection with the 
body, we do not know. Perhaps then it may 
go on a course of holy progress without 
external aid, or stated help ; though the 
Scriptures give no representations which 
warrant us to decide peremptorily that it is 
so. Certainly it is not so now; and they 
4* 



42 



PROGRESS OF THE 



who fancy it to be so, are taking the sure 
method to dwarf their own stature and chill 
their devout atiections. 

There is, undoubtedly, a distinction to be 
made between religion and the means of reli- 
gion — a distinction, the want of attention to 
which has led to great abuses, and been the par 
rent of fanaticism and superstition. Forms 
and ceremonies have been exaggerated into 
the essentials of faith ; opinions have been 
made to take the place of character, and days 
and observances have usurped the respect 
which should have been paid to righteous- 
ness and true piety. In order to avoid this 
error of times past, it has become a favorite 
notion with many, that religion only, should 
have attention and honor — pure, unmixed, 
unaccompanied religion. They are to be- 
come religious; that is the great end; they 
are to form perfect characters. Religion does 
not consist in saying one's prayers, attending 
church, observing the Sabbath, sitting at the 
Lord's table, reading the Bible: these things 
are not religion. One may do all these, and 
yet not be religious — men have done all, 
scrupulously, and yet been reprobates. These 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 43 

are but the means ; and if one be but a reli- 
gious man at heart, it is of no consequence 
whether he scrupulously observe these means 
or not. Indeed, he had best avoid any ap- 
proach to a superstitious regard for them ; it 
woukl belittle him ; it is best to have a great 
deal of freedom. One should not be a slave 
to certain hours; he can pray at any time ; 
a prayer is just as acceptable at the work- 
bench, and in the street, as at the altar ; and 
every day ought to be a Sabbath; one day has 
no more real sacredness than another. There 
is great danger of mistaking the means for 
the end ; we will pursue the end only. 

Common as something like this may be in 
the thoughts of many and the practice of 
more, it is yet wholly indefensible as a mat- 
ter of reasoning, and utterly ruinous when 
applied to practice. Here and there a man 
may be found who can live on these princi- 
ples uninjured ; but they are extraordinary 
men ; the great majority would infallibly be 
destroyed by them. 

They lead to a disregard of religious ser- 
vices, which will extend, in too many in- 
stances, to a disregard of religion itself, and 



44 PROGRESS OF THE 

will often inevitably cause the Christian char- 
acter to fall into decay, because the projDS 
which are necessary to support it are re- 
moved. So serious an evil deserves to be care- 
fully considered. There can be little hope of 
general advancement or great attainment in 
religion, when such opinions are prevalent. 
Let it be considered, therefore, that al- 
though, abstractly and strictly speaking, 
there maybe an essential distinction between 
an end to be gained and the means by which 
it is to be gained, for all practical purposes 
there is no difference whatever. If the result 
be desirable, and can be attained only through 
a certain process, that process is of precisely 
the same consequence as the result. If the 
affair be one of duty and obligation, the obli- 
gation to perform the process is as absolutely 
binding as the obligation to effect the result. 
If I desire to hold an eminent rank in society, 
if I wish to be a promoter of human good in 
an important prof ession, it is just as important 
that I should pass through the discipline of 
that preparatory education which fits for the 
profession, as it is that I should enter on that 
profession. My usefulness and eminence de- 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 45 

pend equally upon both. It is not enough, 
in order to the arrival of a steamship at a 
distant city, that the crew be at their posts, 
the engineer at his wheel, and the machinery 
all in beautiful order ; the boiler must be 
filled and the fire kindled; and he would be 
a stupid commander who should slight these 
because they are only means — who should 
say that his object was to arrive at the city, 
and he was not to be busying himself about 
these little preliminaries to progress. Yet it 
would be hard to understand how there is any 
less stupidity in those who fancy themselves 
able to arrive at heaven, while they slight the 
appointed means of proceeding thither as 
wholly secondary affairs. I ask, " Are you a 
student of the Scriptures? Do you daily and 
statedly pray? Are you fond of frequenting 
occasions of religious worship ? " Your an- 
swer is, " O, no ! religion does not consist in 
these things. I am only careful about the 
great end; that is all which I need to regard." 
That is to say, so long as you are resolved to 
arrive safely at the end of your journey, it is 
of no consequence whether the water, and 
the wood, and the fire, be applied to the 



46 PROGRESS OF THE 

boiler or not ! " But," I add, " one would 
imagine that your own feelings would prompt 
you to join in these religious observances 
and acts — that your own religious state of 
mind and heart would lead you to take plea- 
sure in them." " Why, yes, sometimes^ now 
and then ; and then it is well enough to at- 
tend and use them. But unless one happens 
to be disposed to engage in them, it is not 
worth while to do so. It is only the great 
end which I am anxious about." "And 
thus," I reply, " caring only for the accom- 
plishment of your voyage, you have no rule 
but your inclinations to decide when you 
shall /eec? the fire which is to carry you on." 
One would be glad to ask of the great men 
who have blessed the world with their light 
and action in any department of usefulness 
— especially one would like to ask of the 
apostles and reformers — how this doctrine 
would have operated in their case, and where 
the world would have been if they had been 
beguiled by it — if Paul, instead of hisjour- 
neyings and toils that he might preach the 
gospel, and establish and organize churches, 
and so save men's souls and extend the king- 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 47 

dom of Christ in the world, had thought with- 
in himself, " Pretaching, and worship, and the 
Christian community, are only the means of 
salvation ; they are but secondary things in 
comparison with salvation : salvation, salva- 
tion, that is the great, prime, all-absorbing 
consideration ; and why should I be wearing 
out my life on the mere means ? " — or if 
Luther and the other men that have moved 
the world with their doctrine had sat silent 
on the happy suggestion that preaching is 
not religion — religion is the great thing 
to be regarded ? And yet, where is the man 
who can show that it would have been more 
absurd in them thus to have forsaken the 
preaching of the gospel, and the gathering 
of assemblies, than it is in any private man 
to forsake the hearing of the word on the 
same pretence ? 

And yet there are men who practise and 
defend this unspeakable absurdity ! They 
think themselves good Christians, and yet 
waste the hours of the Sabbath, are slack in 
their attendance on public worship, almost 
strangers to the Bible, without worship in 
their families, and without stated prayer in 



48 PROGRESS OF THE 

their closets ; and, if you expostulate with 
them, very soberly reply, that these things 
do not constitute religion ; they care only 
for religion itself. And thus there is not 
one of the means appointed for and essen- 
tial to religious establishment and growth 
which is not put by on this plea. 

It is evident enough, I think, that these 
means, if not parts of religion, are yet essen- 
tial to it. But I go still farther. I ask if it 
be so unquestionable, as appears to be taken 
for granted, that they are not parts of reli- 
gion. Is it so clear that the reading of the 
Scriptures, acts of devotion, and attendance 
on the ordinances, are not essentially, and in 
their own nature, parts of religion as well as 
means ? Let us look at this. What is reli- 
gion ? Strictly speaking, it is something in- 
visible, intangible, immaterial — which has 
no shape, and is not cognizable by any hu- 
man sense. Practically speaking, it is a cer- 
tain character — that state of mind, heart, 
and character, which become the relation in 
which a man stands to God. Now, I ask, 
what is that state of mind, heart, or charac- 
ter, without the expression of it? Is not the 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 40 

expression of it, properly speaking, a part ot 
it ? Can we say that there is character where 
there is no manifestation of it ? If we were 
consulting philosophical exactness of terms 
perhaps this might be disputed ; but so far as 
regards real life and the common judgment 
of men, it is doubtless correct. We know 
nothing of real benevolence of heart, if in 
no way manifested — nothing of uprightness 
and strength of character — nothing of intel- 
lectual power — except so far as expressed; 
and this expression is always regarded as 
part of the character itself ; it is the charac- 
ter acting. 

Now, religion is a certain state of mind, 
heart, and character; but if there be no 
manifestation of this state in action, neither 
the individual himself nor other men could 
be assured of its existence and reality. But 
what are the expressions, what the manifesta- 
tions, of religion ? The most natural, perhaps 
the most spontaneous, the most indubitable, 
is prayer. It is the exjyression of the reli- 
gious heart to its God. It is the language 
of the devout mind. It is the action of the 
pious spirit. I cannot conceive, therefore, 
5 



60 PROGRESS OF THE 

that any one should esteem prayer simply a 
means of religion. It is a part of religion. 
It is an inalienable concomitant. And it is 
represented, throughout the Scriptures, more 
frequently as an essential act of religion, — 
inseparable from and inherent in a devout 
character, — than as a means of increasing 
the devotional temper, or of spiritual im- 
provement. 

The same is true concerning the Christian 
ordinances. To express faith and newness 
of spirit by baptism, and to commune with 
the Savior at his table, are in themselves 
religious actions. To read the Scriptures, 
and devoutly meditate on the truth of God, 
and worship in his house, and listen to the 
preaching of his word, are religious acts, 
expressions of a religious character, no less 
than means of increasing in Christian knowl- 
edge and holiness. 

It is, therefore, far from true that, in neg- 
lecting religious observances, we merely post- 
pone the means to the end. They constitute, 
in their very nature, parts of that which we 
seek to achieve. They are natural expres- 
sions, manifestations, of the religious char- 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 51 

acter ; and one can hardly be authorized in 
imagining Inmself to possess that character, 
if it do not thus display itself. 

If it be still said that one may make his 
selection from these means, and use those 
which best suit his own case and satisfy his 
own want, it may be replied. Undoubtedly 
he may find greater edification in some than 
in others, and to such he may with peculiar 
interest apply. But he can hardly think 
himself at liberty to slight any^ so long as 
all have been appointed by God, and are 
regarded as part of man's service to him ; 
so long, too, as each of them is only an- 
other mode of giving expression to that 
spirit which he professes to desire to cul- 
tivate, and which he ought to find pleasure 
in expressing. 

If these things be so, every man's duty be- 
comes plain, and he can live in neglect of it 
only at the hazard of a great absurdity, 
which casts his soul into fearful peril. 



5ii PROGRESS OF THE 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN TUT ON HIS GUARD 
AGAINST THE HINDERANCE TO PROGRESS 
WHICH ARISES FROM DISAPPOINTMENT 
RESPECTING THE ENJOYMENT OF A RE- 
LIGIOUS LIFE. 

Among the hinderances against which the 
young Christian may need to be put on his 
guard, we may mention, next, that arising 
from false expectations respecting the enjoy- 
ment of a religious life. The opening views 
of a religious existence are like those of 
youth, bright with vague anticipations of the 
future, full of gay dreams, romantic and vis- 
ionary expectations. It is the youth of the 
soul, excited, ardent, confident, and painting 
the future in colors too uniformly gorgeous 
to be true. Not that any extravagance of 
expectation can exceed the actual happiness 
which the Christian realizes in his estab- 
lished faith. Young Christians do not, for 
they cannot, expect too much; but they ex- 



I lilasl lA.N LIFE. Oo 

pect — as the Scripture says " they ask — 
amiss.'^ They err as to the nature more 
than as to the degree of enjoyment. They 
look for it in excitement, in strong emotion, 
in ecstasy, in rapture. They expect to be 
forever in the same glowing frame of bliss in 
which they are now, while the subject is all 
new and their feelings all fresh. The scales 
have just fallen from their eyes, the light 
has broken in upon their souls for the first 
time, and the scene that bursts upon their 
view is that of Elysium. They have no idea 
that familiarity can ever render it less beau- 
tiful, or dull in any degree the emotion with 
which they gaze upon it. But it is a univer- 
sal and inexorable law of nature, that famil- 
iarity tames the passionateness with which 
any object is regarded. The excitement of 
feeling goes down. The exaltation and 
frenzy of the mind subside. The pleasure 
may continue, but the rapture ceases. 

He, therefore, who proceeds to cultivate 
his religious nature under the expectation 
that it is to yield him a perpetual, sensible 
joy, is sure to be disappointed. It Is not the 
nature of the mind to be capable of perpet- 



64 



PROGRESS OF THE 



ual, uriinterraitted joy. lu all cases in which 
the mind is wrought up to a high pitch of 
excitement, one of two consequences always 
results — either it becomes weary, and the in- 
terest of the subject is worn out by the in- 
tenseness of the action, — and this often 
happens in religion, where a most passionate 
devotion for a season ends in coldness, indif- 
ference, and worldliness, — or else, the excite- 
ment beingmodified and controlled by reason 
and principle, the mind settles down into a 
quiet, steadfast, gentle, and equable condi- 
tion, without ecstasy, but full of content. 
And this, too, is what we see in daily exam- 
ples of the judicious and confirmed believers. 
Many are made greatly unhappy, and fall 
into grievous despondency, for want of duly 
considering this. They find erelong that 
their frame of mind sinks. Not only have 
they no rapture, but they perceive with hor- 
ror that occasionally even a lethargy of feel- 
ing comes over them, as if they had fairly 
exhausted the excitability of their mind. 
They read and pray with a calmness which 
frightens them — a calmness they in vain 
try to agitate; and whereas they were short- 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 55 

ly before lifted to the third heavens witli 
delight, they now stand unmoved, as if the 
very pulse of celestial life had stopped. The 
contrast appals them. They fancy them- 
selves deserted of God and all goodness. 
They feel themselves abandoned and lost, 
and are ready to sink in consternation and 
despair. They had imagined, in their hours 
of exalted musing, that the love of the 
world was subdued; that the power of its 
fascination was gone ; that its follies and 
lusts, its pride and pleasures, having been 
seen once in their true light, could never 
have charms for them again ; and that the 
sinful feelings they had formerly excited 
could not be excited by them again. But, 
as they again move about in the actual 
scenes of the world, they find it far other- 
wise. The desires and appetites which they 
supposed to be dead, were only sleeping, and 
they suddenly wake. The passions and sel- 
fishness which they supposed subdued spring 
up vigorously, and would break their chains, 
and clamor for indulgence, as before, and, 
perhaps, in some unguarded moment, seize 
on their gratification. All this astonishes 



56 



PROGRESS OF THE 



and alarms them. They were not prepared 
for it. It is wholly unexpected. They find 
themselves deceived. They know not how 
to meet it. They are miserable. Their life 
is wholly a different one from that which 
they proposed to themselves— a life of 
watching, self-denial, and anxiety, when 
they had been looking for nothing but 
peace and joy. They are disheartened, and 
perhaps abandon the path which promised 
them pleasantness and peace, but has 
yielded them weariness and pain. 

It becomes important, therefore, that the 
beginner should understand the nature both 
of Christian duty and of Christian happi- 
ness, that he may count the cost before he 
begins, and not fail through false and un- 
reasonable expectations. 

Let him consider, then, that Christian duty 
is conformity to a law, and Christian happi- 
ness the result of that conformity. This law 
governs the affections, as well as the conduct; 
determines the whole state of mind and feel- 
ing, as well as of life ; and it is only when 
mind and feeling are conformed to this law 
that the man is in the way of Christian duty. 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 57 

— only then, therefore, that he is to expect 
happiness. And what happiness? That 
which belongs to the consciousness of having 
done duty ; that which grows out of and ap- 
pertains to the state of mind which is at- 
tained ; — and that will be, of course, satis- 
faction, contentment, rather than ecstacy. 
The consciousness of being right, the assur- 
ance of the favor of God, — these, being 
abiding and habitual impressions on the 
mind, are likely to produce a calm peace, 
rather than a tumultuous delis^ht. 

Then it is to be considered, further, that 
religion operates on the human mind upon 
similar principles with other subjects, and fol- 
lows the laws and constitution of human na- 
ture. If, then, in respect to the question be- 
fore us, the analogy of the other affections 
shows the same result, we ought to be satis- 
fied. And undoubtedly it is so. The reli- 
gious affections are kindred to all the affec- 
tions. That love which is the essence of 
religion is the same love which exhibits itself 
in the various relations of man, and is the 
source of the purest and strongest joys of 
earth, as it is to be of those of heaven. How 



58 PROGRESS OF THE 

intense and fervent the love of a mother for 
her child ! "What sacrifices will she make 
for it, what toils endure, and how readily 
does her heart flutter and her eye ovei-flow I 
Yet there are times when that strong affec- 
tion seems dead in her bosom, and we have 
often heard her say that it seemed to her as 
if she had no feeling, as if she were an un- 
natural creature, from whom all natural 
affection had departed. Yet, meantime, un- 
excited as she is, she goes resolutely on, 
discharging her maternal duties, till some oc- 
casion calls forth again the floods of tender- 
ness. She did not blame herself — we did 
not blame her — for that habitual tranquil- 
lity of feeling, for that temporary coldness ; 
— far from it. The cares of a large family 
never could go on, if the parent were agi- 
tated always with the intense feeling toward 
all the children which is the real measure of 
her love for each ; and we know that she 
gives as genuine proof of her affection 
where the work she does for them takes 
her thoughts away from them, when she 
forgets them for a season, because she is so 
busy for their good, as when she over- 
whelms them with caresses and tears. 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 59 

So, too, the father of the household. He 
leaves them in the morning, is absorbed with 
the toilsome cares of his business, and may 
not be distinctly conscious of a thought or 
emotion going back to them during the day. 
Is it proved, then, that he does not love 
them ? Time was, when the image of her 
who is now the mother of his children haunt- 
ed him like a dream, mingled with all his 
thoughts, could not be, would not be, ban- 
ished from his mind : it was like a light about 
him wherever he went, and a bliss in his 
thoughts however he was employed; and 
thus his love was one perpetual living rap- 
ture. Because it is so no longer, does he 
therefore love her the less ? Nay, he loves 
her the more,— with a sober, steadfast, hab- 
itual confidence and affection, which has 
lost its passion, but has become an essential 
portion of his being, — intrudes on him less, 
but in its calmness and quietness blesses 
him more. It is only the idle dream of ro- 
mance which expects the rapture of the 
lover to be perpetuated in the sober cer- 
tainty of waking bliss which makes the 
happiness of home. And so of all the af- 



60 PROGRESS OF THE 

fections. The religious affections go by 
the same law. When newly awakened 
and fixed on the great realities of God and 
eternity, they engross, and agitate, and ab- 
sorb the soul; there is no room for any 
other thought, affection, or care ; these fill 
and consume the whole being. But by- 
and-by the heart settles into a state of tran- 
quility ; and the man, occupied in obedience 
and duty, is excited less, and walks with his 
faith as an old and familiar friend. 

Let it, then, be no discouragement to the 
religious aspirant, that familiarity with his 
new life has abstracted something from the 
keen relish it had at first. Let him learn to 
find an equal satisfaction in the moderate and 
unexciting life of tranquil duty, that he at 
first found in the strong emotions of the mind. 
Acceptance with God depends on the heart 
being right with him; and as you do not 
judge of the Tightness of your child's affec- 
tion toward yourself and the other children 
by its vehemence of expression, by its being 
easily called out in tears and vented in out- 
cries, but rather by its steady and unobtru- 
sive watchfulness for your wishes, and care- 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 61 

fulness not to offend, and fidelity, and kind- 
ness, — so believe that the great Father 
judges of you, and approves you none the less 
because the strength of emotion with which 
you first came to him has subsided into an 
equable confidence and uniform obedience. 

And here I cannot refrain from saying a 
few words in relation to another source of 
discouragement, which often operates in con- 
nection with that, to the consideration of 
which this chapter is especially devoted. 

The Christian is very frequently disheart- 
ened, not only at finding less excitement and 
rapturous enjoyment in the religious life than 
he expected, but also at not discovering such 
obvious marks of progress in the advancing 
stages as at the commencement. But it is a 
very important truth for him who is going 
forward in the Christian life to remember, 
that the growth of character follows, in many 
respects, the analogy of all other growth. In 
its beginnings it is more perceptible ; its prog- 
ress in its first stages is more striking : an ex- 
traordinary difference is in a very short time 
noticed, after a man has positively changed 
from worldliness to religion. But the suc- 
6 



62 PROGRESS OP THE 

ceeding steps become by-and-by less percep- 
tible ; and though actual, perhaps equal prog- 
ress may be made in a more advanced state 
of the Christian course, yet the work may 
seem to be almost stationary. An illustration 
of this may be found in the different appear- 
ances of motion in the rising and the me- 
ridian sun ; the former seeming to advance 
with rapidity, the latter hardly to move. Or 
take, for comparison, a work gf art, a paint- 
ing. The artist takes a blank and unmeaning 
canvass. He sketches the outlines of his 
beautiful subject. 'A very short time suffices 
to exhibit great progress. The whole form 
and features come rapidly into view. But, as 
he approaches towards the finishing of his 
work, he labors the more delicate parts — he 
retouches, refines, perfects ; but it all makes 
little show : in truth, there may be more and 
more careful study, and anxious toil, and the 
highest efibrts of his genius, and yet the 
amount of labor and thought, and the degree 
of improvement, be perceptible to none but 
a most observing and practised eye. So it is 
with the Christian character the nearer it 
approaches to perfection : there may be great 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 63 

watchfulness, laborious self-discipline, toil 
for advancement, and a perpetual addition of 
those delicate strokes, those hues and shades 
of spiritual beauty, by which |)erfection is at- 
tained; but no change shows itself, mean- 
while, to the common observer ; the Chris- 
tian seems to others precisely where he was a 
month ago, and he himself may be dissatisfied 
at not perceiving any obvious marks of 
growth corresponding with his arduous 
labors. 

Let the Christian, then, not be deceived. 
Let him be sure that he judges himself by a 
right standard. It is true that he ought not 
to be too easily satisfied of his improvement ; 
but neither ought he to be discouraged 
through an iiTational regard and judgment 
of his moral condition. When the oak was 
just springing from the ground, and rearing 
its stem in the increase of its first tender sea- 
son, its growth of but twelve inches above the 
soil, whereon nothing but decayed leaves 
was manifest before, appeared conspicuous 
and considerable ; but now that it has waved 
its branches in the sunshine and winds of 
threescore summers, and sheltered two oren- 



G4 



PROGRESS OF THE 



erations of men with its beneficent shadow, 
and nurtured innumerable tribes of living 
creatures in its kindly arms, it may add the 
same measure of increase in a year to each 
of its hundred gigantic limbs, with no percep- 
tible enlargement ; its real growth has been 
a hundred-fold what it was when most con- 
spicuous to men, but no one observes or ap- 
preciates it. So it is with the Christian char- 
acter: the more advanced its stages, the 
nearer it attains to perfection, its actual im- 
provement, though greater than in the begin- 
ning, may nevertheless be less perceptible. 
In view of the discouragements alluded to 
in this chapter, and of all others that might 
be enumerated, I would say to him who has 
really entered on a religious life, " You have 
taken the only rational course, the only safe 
course, the only truly happy course : perse- 
vere unto the end ; run with patience the 
race that is set before you ; fight the good 
fight, keep the faith, lay hold on eternal life. 
Light is sown for the righteous, and glad- 
ness for the upright in heart." 



CDKISTIAN LIFE. 65 



CHAPTER V. 



COXSIDERATIOXS DESIGNED TO ASSIST THE 
CHRISTIAN IN THE SUCCESSFUL USE OP 
THE MEANS AND METHODS OF RELIGIOUS 
PROGRESS. 

In order to the successful use of the means 
of religious progress, so that they shall truly 
operate to a religious growth, it is essential 
so to employ them as to create an equal, 
healthy development of the character in all 
its parts, so as to avoid the inconsistency and 
distortion which are the consequence of too 
exclusive devotion to some, and the com- 
parative neglect of others. A perfectly well 
proportioned religious character is rarely to 
be found ; but for that very reason it should 
be the more anxiously desired. 

Character is constituted of the state of 
the mind and affections, and the habits of 
life. These ought all to be in harmony with 
each other, — directed by the same princi- 
ples, exhibiting the same features, wearing 
6* 



66 PROGRESS OF THE 

the same complexion. If they disagree, 
there is a painful discordance perceived; 
something is wrong; there is neglect of 
duty, blame somewhere. 

Now, the means of cultivating and per- 
fecting the right state of mind and affections 
are, primarily, meditation and prayer, and 
those mental exercises of contemplation, 
self-examination and study, by which the 
soul is directly wrought upon and raised to a 
spiritual fervor. Thus it approaches to God, 
cherishes holy and benevolent desires, and 
comes to love and enjoy the things that are 
unseen and eternal. And when, from the 
seasons of contemplation and thought, the 
man goes into the scenes of active life, he 
carries with him this propensity to good- 
ness, these desires to do well. He goes with 
a mind imbued with the sentiment of devo- 
tion, and the spirit of dutifulness. 

Thus far, well. But the character is not 
yet complete : the habits of his active life 
make part of it. And what are they ? Do 
they correspond with this internal frame ? 
Are they in harmony with these principles 
and sentiments ? 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 67 

We are ready at first to ask, " How can they 
be otherwise? " But we are soon reminded 
that it is often even so. It is common to 
witness lamentable inconsistencies between 
the feelings and tlie conduct. Some men 
appear to live two lives. They seem to have 
two souls. In private thought and in familiar 
converse they are devout men. Their sen- 
sibilities are quick; their emotions are strong; 
their sense of God lively ; and they greatly 
enjoy their seasons of devotion and reading. 
But in the routine of life they are worldly, 
grasping, self-indulgent, devoted to gain, 
neglectful of trusts and duties, and far in- 
ferior to many who have no religious sensi- 
bility, who find little enjoyment in retirement 
and reflection, but who have accustomed 
themselves to the most scrupulous fidelity 
in every passing hour of social life. 

It is to be with you, therefore, a matter 
of study and effort to carry the sentiment of 
the closet into action. The life of contem- 
plation must not contradict the life of action. 
It is but partially that character is formed 
which is formed only by thinking, musing, 
and pur})osing. It wants the completeness of 



68 PROGRESS OF THE 

active habits. It wants the test which is to 
be found only in life. It wants the principle 
of growth which can be found only in action. 
And this is what is particularly to be con- 
sidered in this connection — actio7i is an es- 
sential and alUimportant means of religious 
groioth; so much so, that even the contem- 
plative graces, the virtues of the mind, true 
affection, exalted principle, benevolent dis- 
positions, — which we are ready to believe 
thrive best in solitude ; to cultivate which, 
multitudes have shut themselves out from the 
world, that they might have nothing to do 
but to meditate, read, and pray, — even these 
fail of their true perfection unless quickened 
and ripened by action. For consider a mo- 
ment. When the mind is thus excited and 
glowing with divine truth and virtuous 
thoughts, is it not all so much impulse to do 
something? Does not the desire spring up 
spontaneously, prompting to act, — that is, to 
express itself? But there is no opportunity 
to act, and the impulse is denied. It is ex- 
cited again, and again denied. What is the 
consequence ? It is enfeebled. It becomes 
less and less strong. It fades and dies from 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 



69 



the soul. Generous impulses, not acted upon, 
perish ; the soul loses its sensibility, becomes 
callous. It has long been a familiar accusation 
against a certain sort of sentimental reading, 
that it tends to consume and waste the sym- 
pathies, and paralyze the affections, by highly 
exciting them, but allows them not expres- 
sion in action, awakening the impulse, but 
refusing to gratify it. It is equally the case 
w^th all religious affections. And it is easy 
to understand how they who trust to them as 
if sufficient, and take no pains to carry them 
out in act, may come to exhibit two distinct 
characters — elevated thought and glowing 
feeling, but selfish indolence of life and cold 
inactivity. 

Consider, therefore, that action is an essen- 
tial means of religious growth. Follow out 
the highest impulses of your mind. Obey 
the suggestions of your conscience. Never 
deny the religious promptings of your feel- 
ings. Then you will establish the dominion 
of principle, the supremacy of conscience. 
Then all good feelings, having received their 
natural and intended gratification, will be 



70 PROGRESS OF THE 

encournged and strengthened, because they 
have had their legitimate exercise. 

Remarks to the same purpose may be made 
respecting the relation which subsists be- 
tween princij)le and hahit. Habit is a thing 
of tremendous power : it is sometimes om- 
nipotent in man ; and it is of the greatest 
consequence that its energies be as much as 
possible, and as easily as possible, secured on 
the side of virtue. It may be the greatest 
helper or the greatest hinderance to improve- 
ment. It was intended to be the former ; and 
yet to how many, through life, does it prove 
the latter ! In how many men does virtue 
make toilsome growth, because clogged, 
thwarted, depressed, by unfortunate habits! 
— habits formed in early life, established in 
the flesh, rooted in the affections, woven into 
the daily routine of conduct, till they become 
a part of the very nature ; and the poor wretch 
whom they enthral is bound down to a mis- 
erable insignificance of character, and yet is 
wholly unaware of their deleterious predom- 
inance. They are habits, for example, of lux- 
urious living, of perpetual personal indul- 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 71 

gence, of slothfulness, of mental inaction ; 
they are around him like a heavy and dead- 
ening atmosphere, through which his spirit 
has to make its way upward, and by which its 
flight is pei-petually retarded. It has always 
been so, and he does not know it ; or, if he 
knows it, how difficult to enforce the remedy ! 
But in most instances he has no conception 
of the true nature of the evil which hinders 
him ; is not, perhaps, even aware of his griev- 
ous want of alacrity and progress — like the 
perpetual invalid, who has borne about with 
him from time immemorial a seated disor- 
der which enfeebles him, but has no violent 
symptoms, and who still engages in all the 
general duties of life, without the vigor and 
delight that other men know, but with all the 
vigor and delight that he ever knew, and 
therefore without any consciousness of the 
extent of his own deficiency ; and who never 
can be conscious how far he is below the 
vigor and spirits of other men, except by be- 
ing delivered from his ailment and made like 
other men. So is it with him whose moral 
power is palsied by the unpropitious habits 
I have referred to : he never can know the 



72 PKUGliESS OF THE 

degree in which they are an injury to him, 
until, having thrown them off, he sees how 
rapidly he rises without tliem. 

There is the greatest reason, then, that one 
should strictly examine himself in this re- 
spect ; that he may not be depressed forever 
by circumstances in his modes of life, of 
whose injurious influence he is ignorant, and 
which he might counteract if he knew them. 

But could he counteract them ? It will not 
do to answer, No ; and yet the difficulty is 
in many cases so all but insuperable, that we 
are ready to understand in their literal sense 
the words of th*e prophet, and believe that the 
undertaking is as desperately hopeless as that 
of changing the leopard's spots, and the Ethi- 
opian's skin. To take the most familiar ex- 
ample : there is the drunkard. He continues 
such against his own will, in spite of his 
own resolutions, in contradiction to his own 
interest, tears, professions, purposes, princi- 
ples. His bad habit is but the type of all 
bad habits ; a little more desperate, perhaps, 
because it has worked itself into every fibre 
of the body, and made its gratification to be 
clamored for by every organ and function, 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 78 

every muscle, sense, and nerve ; but all bad 
habits, in their place, exercise the same insane 
dominion. Sloth — is not the man ashamed 
of it ? does he not make vows against it ? 
does he not mourn at the ruin and disgrace 
it entails upon him? and yet he is slothful 
still. Ill-temper — does not the passionate 
mother, whose bursts of anger lead her to ill- 
treat the child that she loves, blush at her 
own shame, and condemn herself with bit- 
terness and tears? and yet to-morrow the 
passion is her master again. Procrastination 
— with what keen anguish, with what abid- 
ing sense of degradation, with what re- 
morse for friends neglected, duties omitted, 
precious opportunities of usefulness passed 
by, and occasions of honor and improve- 
ment lost forever, — with what compunction 
and self-condemnation, with what torment 
of unintermitting self-dissatisfaction, — does 
that inexplicable habit pursue its poor de- 
luded victim! And yet remorse and shame, 
and a thousand injurious results, and the 
appeal even of sober principle, are vain. 
He still submits to his master, and will be 
wiser to-morrow. Other instances any one 
7 



74 PROGRESS OF THE' 

can add. And they suggest the fearful 
question, which almost staggers our hope 
as we reply to it — whether, in sober truth, 
a confirmed ill habit be not incurable, and 
whether virtue have any prospect of gaining 
in the conflict. 

The best answer is found in the appeal to 
opposite facts. The worst habits in the most 
desperate cases, and under the most unprom- 
ising circumstances, have been corrected. 
The history of the Christian religion is filled 
with examples. It has shown its divine 
power in these triumphs, and proved, by 
the wonderful trophies of its grace, in the 
amazing conversions from sin which it has 
wrought, that however desperate may seem 
to be the struggle between principle and 
habit, yet the good is the stronger, and must 
prevail in the end, whenever it is faithfully 
and perseveringly supported. 

But how much faith and what long per- 
severance it demands ! 

From these extreme cases, then, the 
Christian, who is seeking improvement, 
must take both a warning and encourage- 
ment — a warning thsit he examine his con- 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 75 

dition, and be fully acquainted with every 
circumstance in his modes of life which 
threatens this ruinous ascendency over his 
principle; and an encouragement that, if 
he detect any which is interwoven with his 
whole being, so that to part with it is like 
parting with a right hand or right eye, he 
yet is able to do it, and to enjoy the hap- 
piness of deliverance. 

He is especially to learn the great duty of 
seeing to it, from the first, that all his per- 
sonal and social habits, his disposition of 
time, the order of his affairs, the customs of 
his daily life and business, be such as to 
facilitate his virtuous purposes, — such as 
to make devotion and religion easy to him, 
— such as to make holy thoughts and be- 
nevolent actions always in place, never in- 
congruous, never irksome, because evidently 
in the icay of other affairs. By this method, 
he should give to goodness the fairest chance 
of obtaining a complete ascendency over 
him. Principle, finding all the habits of 
life and mind congenial, would thrive, and 
strengthen, and assume the complete mas- 
tery. 



76 PROGRESS OF THE 

To make this yet the more sure, let him 
take pains directly to aid and encourage his 
principle ; not only by bringing it forward 
and making it active on great emergencies, 
but by allowing it, nay, calling on it, to ex- 
ert itself constantly ; giving it small tasks; 
cheering it by the pleasure of small tri- 
umphs; and, in a word, by making even 
those lesser offices of duty and kindness, 
— which other men do of course, and with- 
out thinking, — by making even them mat- 
ters of principle, — turning them into 
thoughtful acts of religious obedience, do- 
ing them because they are consonant to 
faith, and are suitable to a spiritual and 
holy nature — whether he eats or drinks, or 
whatever he does, doing all to the glory of 
God, as to the Lord, and not to men. In 
this way, the full power of habit and all its 
noblest energies may be enlisted on the side 
of his improvement. Because, principle be- 
ing often called into action, and being made 
the supreme deciding authority, more fre- 
quently than any thing else, the habit of 
acting from principle will become stronger 
than any other habit ; will overcome, sup- 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 77 

press, exclude every hostile habit ; the op- 
position between principle and habit, which 
once so palsied the purpose and neutralized 
the efforts of virtue, will have ceased; and 
the forces once antagonistic having become 
united in the alliance of truth, having be- 
come in fact o)ie, there can be no longer 
any serious impediment to the onward prog- 
ress of the soul. Being made free from, sin, 
ye will become servants io God and have 
your fruit unto holiness. 



7b PROGRESS OF TiLE 



CHAPTER VI. 



MAXIMS ON WHICH THE EXPECTATION OF 
RELIGIOCS PROGRESS IS TO BE BUILT. 

Let us suppose that the low views and 
the erroneous principles on which the Chris- 
tian life is too frequently made to proceed 
are set aside. We next go on to state the 
maxims on which the expectation of Chris- 
tian progress must be built. 

And, first of all, it is evident that there 
must be a beginning. There is no such thing 
as setting out in the midst. There is a first 
step in every journey ; there is the com- 
mencement of life in every germ. The reli- 
gious life of the soul can form no exception : 
it must have a first step, a commencement. 
Define it as you please, — let it be the act 
of the human reason alone, — let it be the 
moral character as exhibited in daily life, — 
let it have no authority or guide but the indi- 
vidual judgment and will; still there must be 
a beginning somewhere, for the simple reason 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 79 

that the individual who exercises the judg- 
ment and will has a beginning; so that no 
one, by adopting a low idea of the nature of 
the religious life, can thereby escape the obli- 
gation to ascertain whether he have started 
on the true career, nor assume that he came 
into it as a matter of course when he came 
into the world. For into what did he then 
come? Into those very habits of decent 
living which, in his view, are the Christian 
life? Surely not. Those habits were formed 
at a time when he had power to form the 
opposite habits ; when he had the opportunity 
to decide for himself which he would adopt; 
and when, from some motive or other, he 
did adopt the better rather than the worse. 
If he claims that these should satisfy his con- 
science, then he must be able to show that 
he adopted them of good intention, that he 
formed the purpose to possess and maintain 
this character. Either he formed the purpose, 
or he did not form it ; if he never formed the 
purpose, but is what he is by pure accident, 
then, of course, he will not pretend to any 
more virtue, than if, by a similar accident, he 
had become any other character; and, on the 



80 PROGRESS OF THE 

Other hand, if he formed the purpose and pur- 
sued it by resolute forethouglit and plan, then 
he made a beginning. Therefore, nothing 
can be more absurd than the idea so com- 
monly and unthinkingly held by men, that 
they are in the midst of their religious pro- 
gress, when they never formed a distinct in- 
tention of pursuing it, and cannot prove that 
they ever laid an express plan in relation to it. 
Now, if this be true in regard to that low 
idea of the Christian life just referred to, 
how much more is it true of that correct and 
elevated idea which rises beyond the decen- 
cies of external morals, to the spiritual purity 
of the affections, companionship with Christ, 
and a universal holiness. This absolute and 
express devotion to things invisible and eter- 
nal, this perpetual and supreme reference to 
the spiritual, is not a state of mind which 
grows up spontaneously, which starts to being 
of itself, out of the incumbrances and occu- 
pations of this visible state ; — it must be the 
result of effort, the effect of design. No man 
can have thus gained the mastery over the 
sensible present without having intended it 
and labored for it : he could not do this with- 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 81 

out fixing a mark on that era of his life ; 
without being able to go back and say that 
then he made a beginning ; not perhaps at 
such a day or hour, or even absolutely such 
a year; but certainly that at such a period of 
life he took a decided stand, and, by some 
process of mind more or less protracted, came 
to the express understanding with himself 
that he was bound by religious obligations. 

This is the first element in the religious 
life — this settled purpose of soul, this dis- 
tinct, acknowledged, cherished intention, 
and plan to live for heaven. He that can- 
not convict himself of having deliberately 
formed such a purpose, who is not con- 
scious of having meditated and acted upon 
such a plan, talks idly when he asserts that 
he is in the midst of a Christian course. He 
deceives himself. He wants the first ele- 
ment of the religious life. 

Next to this purpose, religious progress 
demands effort. The purpose must not die 
in inaction ; it must not, as, alas ! is too fre- 
quently the case, waste itself in reverie and 
musing. That dreamy state of the mind, 
which loves to dwell in contemplation, — to 



82 PROGRESS OF THE 

sit with the eyes half closed and gaze on the 
visions of glory which the fancy brings be- 
fore it, — to think of the admirable things 
that may be done, and the grand designs 
which it would be delightful to accomplish, 
— is an unprofitable state, and does little to 
advance the character. It is likely to ener- 
vate rather than to improve it. No purpose 
is of any value which does not ripen into 
action; aird the ever-present purpose of 
Christian progress is nought, unless accom- 
panied by ever-active effort. 

Inaction is the death of all virtue, the palsy 
of the character. It accounts satisfactorily 
for the backwardness and meanness of Chris- 
tian men in Christian attainments. One 
might almost fancy, from the sluggishness 
with which men hold their faith, that, in 
adojDting the gospel as their hope and rule, 
they had simply placed themselves on board 
some convenient vessel sent for their deliver- 
ance, and now were quietly to float down the 
gentle stream to the great city of their rest; 
instead of which, all experience and all rev- 
elation teach them, that they are embarked 
on a wide and perilous ocean, where they 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 83 

must watch and toil, and where they can 
make no progress except they make effort. 

Our infatuation on this point is dreadful. 
Nothing else comes without labor and perse- 
verance. Learning, accomplishments, dis- 
tinction, wealth, — they are all earned ; and 
no man who desires them hesitates to j^ay 
for them the full price, enormous as it some- 
times is, at which alone they can be pos- 
sessed. But that greatest and highest attain- 
ment, a perfect human character, is to come 
of itself. The calm peace of self-govern- 
ment, — the holy luxury of heavenly-mind- 
edness — the lofty and complacent dignity 
of spiritualized affections — the honor of 
being like God, and glory of entering with 
Jesus Christ into immortal purity and love, 
— this we expect to obtain by wishing: this 
vast acquisition, this unlimited and illimita- 
ble boon, we look at, we admire, we long for, 
we do not doubt we shall possess ; and yet 
we make for it nothing like the effort which 
we make to get bread for our children and 
ornaments to our houses. 

No wonder, then, that the Christian com- 
munity improves so slowly. No wonder that 



84 PROGRESS OF THE 

exemplary patterns of Christian attainment 
are so rare. No wonder that, instead of see- 
ing all around us those men of the beatitudes, 
those partakers of the divine nature, those 
illustrious imitators of God, of whom the 
New Testament speaks, and whom Christ 
meant to fashion as his peculiar people, we 
are compelled to mourn over inconsistency 
and frailty — compelled to hide a multitude 
of sins in our good men with the mantle of a 
wide charity — compelled to extenuate and 
apologize for our own and our brethren's 
faults, on the score of that human imperfec- 
tion, which it is our shame that we have not 
long ago surmounted and repressed. No won- 
der that, in this laxness of exertion toward 
Christian perfection, the world still waits to 
comprehend the meaning of that description 
which speaks of a "royal priesthood," "sons 
of God," " perfect men in Christ Jesus." 
For where are they? Here and there one, 
just to satisfy us that the Word of God de- 
scribes no impossibility — just enough to cast 
unspeakable reproach and shame on the indo- 
lence of the backward multitude of believers, 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 85 

— backward, because they make no true 
effort to go forward. 

But it is not this listlessness and inaction 
alone, to which we are to look as the cause 
of this imperfect measure of Christian attain- 
ment amongst us : — much is to be imputed 
also to a certain vagueness in respect to the 
nature and order of Christian progress. Men 
do not distinctly perceive what it is, nor how 
it should proceed. The same inaccurate and 
cloudy notions already adverted to, which 
persuade them that they are in the successful 
prosecution of a work they have never ex- 
pressly begun, nor formed any express pur- 
pose of doing, lead them also to believe that 
it will be, by-and-by, successfully completed 
in some general way ; but they have not de- 
scribed to themselves in what way it is to be. 
They indistinctly see they must go forward ; 
but they have no clear, accurate idea of the 
path, and no idea whatever of the stages by 
which they are to proceed. In a word, their 
notion of the whole subject is general and 
confused, amounting to nothing more than 
that they are to be improving themselves 
and advancing toward heaven ; that they are 
8 



86 PROGEESS OF THE 

to grow better as they grow older — but as 
to analyzing this idea, and reaching an actual 
understanding of the several points in re- 
gard to which they are to grow better, — 
this is foreign from their thought ; and no 
wonder that this vagueness of purpose keeps 
them stationary. 

The next point, therefore, to be considered 
is, that religious progress is to be made by 
stages. It is not merely proceeding, but pro- 
ceeding from one point to another. It is not 
merely becoming better, but becoming better 
first in one respect and then in another. 

All progress is from stage to stage. In 
the processes of nature it is so ; — first the 
blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the 
ear; — a continued growth, but arriving at 
and passing certain epochs or periods as it 
proceeds. So in the growth of the human 
frame, and of the human mind ; so in the 
advancement of society and knowledge. No 
science can be taught, no art can be learned, 
except in passing from step to step ; one por- 
tion must be acquired fii*st as a preparation 
for another, and the third can be reached 
only through the full comprehension of the 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 87 

second. Why should religious knowledge 
and Christian character be exceptions? 
Why should we not expect in their pursuit 
also to find natural steps of advancement, 
which invite us to aim at one attainment in 
the first place, and to make that a stepping- 
stone for the next ? And if our religious 
progress were divided out for us into por- 
tions, would not its accomplishment be 
more certain and more satisfactory? 

It may not be easy — indeed, it is very 
difficult — to state distinctly and with philo- 
sophical exactness the successive stages of 
the religious progress; and for this reason, 
among others, that they cannot be precisely 
the same to all men. Even the author of 
that celebrated description of the Christian 
life which depicts the Pilgrim's Progress, 
though of a class of believers who have gone 
as far as any in making Christian experience 
of the same un deviating type in all individu- 
als — has yet found it necessary to allow 
great varieties in the several histories which 
he framed. Greater varieties still will be al- 
lowed by most persons who consider care- 
fully the infinite diversities which exist in the 



88 PROGRESS OF THE 

natural tempers and dispositions of men, and 
the circumstances of education, society, busi- 
ness, companions, forms of life, &c. in which 
men are placed. It is inevitable that, under 
this state of things, no minute account can 
be given of the stages of Christian progress 
which will precisely apply to all persons. 
We can state nothing more than a few gen- 
eral principles, of whose varying application 
every man must judge for himself. 

Thus we may say, first, this culture of 
character which you have undertaken is a 
vast and complicated thing : it is not one 
thing, but many; and it demands equal 
watchfulness and effort in many directions, as 
to the thoughts, the passions, the -words, the 
actions. It demands right affections toward 
all objects that concern you in this world, 
and in the invisible world; the proper bal- 
ance of the affections; the due adjustment of 
the habits with the principle ; the true com- 
bination of freedom and restraint, of contem- 
plation with action, of firmness with gentle- 
ness. It demands knowledge, self-restraint, 
watchfulness, and action, in so many direc- 
tions, on so many subjects, and so uninter- 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 89 

raittingly, that to undertake the whole at 
once, to assume the equal charge of all, and 
attempt their faithful regulation at the same 
moment, is a task that might well seem des- 
perate. The work must be divided and 
classified ; the field must be separated into 
portions ; special attention must be first be- 
stowed on this, and then on that, and the 
huge labor be facilitated by partition, the 
long journey accomplished by stages. 

Then, secondly, as respects the precise 
order in which the several objects shall be 
taken u*> and accomplished, it is clear that 
the first care should be to establish the do- 
minion of some great leading principle in the 
soul, some one master authority, to whose 
pervading influence all shall submit, and 
from whose absolute word there shall be no 
appeal. This will be to lay the foundation 
of the character steadfast and strong, and to 
further and facilitate the unity and compact- 
ness of the whole structure. And the Creator 
has provided for this in the very constitution 
he has framed, by making conscience the su- 
preme power, and ordaining that every fac- 
ulty and disposition shall bow to its sway. 
8* 



90 PROGRESS OF THE 

To assure to conscience its rightful sover- 
eignty is, therefore, the first object ; to this 
one great end the attention should be di- 
rected and the chief effort made, because, 
until conscience sits monarch in the soul all 
effort after permanent moral advancement 
must be vain ; and afterward none can be 
lost; and in the mean time, while this is 
going on, much discipline of the heart and 
the life will be unconsciously accomplished 
which otherwise might demand serious labor. 
Let the vigor of the soul, then, be concen- 
trated to the accomplishment of this result, 
rather than dissipated and enfeebled in the 
attempt to perform several acts of inferior 
moment. 

Having made some progress in this great 
work, there is another distinct object which 
may in the same way command the special 
attention of the soul, and be made matter 
of studious and almost exclusive considera- 
tion — the predominant affection, namely. 
This is of not inferior consequence to that 
just mentioned. That to which the heart is 
devoted decides the character; and if the 
character is matter of solicitude, especially 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 91 

is it matter of solicitude to decide what shall 
be mistress of the heart. Here the case is 
plain. LoYE is the first and second thing ; 
love is the fulfilling of the law ; he that 
dwells in love dwells in God. This is the 
principle that must sway the affections • 
when it does, the law will be fulfilled, and the 
soul will dwell with God, without any minute 
and painful toiling after the petty details of 
duty. Let this, then, be a distinct study, — 
the separate and express aim, — until the 
characteristics of divine love are impressed 
deeply on the heart, and all meaner affec- 
tions recognize and bow to its dominion. 

Another distinct object must be, to gain an 
ever-wakeful consciousyiess of the divine pres- 
ence. The good child must learn to feel the 
Father's presence, must never lose sight of 
his eye ; and it is essential to spiritual growth 
that the spirit human should be always aware 
of its contact with the Spirit divine. This 
is to be learned. This must become a habit. 
And it can only be by making it a subject of 
distinct study and effort ; so that the soul, 
which the officious senses would restrict to 
this visible scene of things, may be able to 



92 PROGRESS OF THE 

Struggle away from them, and look alway at 
the things which are unseen and eternal. 

Let these suffice for specimens of what is 
intended by stages in the religious progress. 
I trust I have said enough to exhibit my 
meaning clearly. The doctrine I would in- 
culcate is, that, instead of proposing to our- 
selves, in general terms, the vast and vague 
purpose of becoming religious, we should 
parcel out our duty into its natural depart- 
ments, and make each the object of separate 
discipline, until we have become in some 
measure adepts in it, and then attend in the 
same way to another. Of course, this method 
cannot be pursued to the letter; no one can 
exclusively cultivate his conscience, and 
have no care of his affections ; nor cherish 
the thought of God, and yet neglect his con- 
science. On the contrary, attention to either 
of these objects greatly tends to fix attention 
on the other two ; but unquestionably the 
greatest proficiency in regard to each and to 
all would be achieved by an effort specially 
directed to one at a time. 

This general principle might be illustrated 
and explained to a much greater extent; 



i 



CHRISTIAN LIFE. 93 

but enough has been said to render it in- 
telligible, and show its application. One 
thing at a time, though a rule impossible 
to be literally adhered to, is yet, as far as it 
may be observed, as wise in the progress of 
the religious character as in any other im- 
portant affair. 



END. 



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